


If there was a man

by RubySand



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jonerys, R plus L equals J, Ser Barristan lives, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 61,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubySand/pseuds/RubySand
Summary: Ser Barristan returns to Dragonstone in time to sail North with Daenerys Targaryan and Jon Snow. The War for the Dawn is not the only thing that awaits them once they arrive in Winterfell. Old secrets are revealed and unlikely alliances are forged as the world crumbles. But hope for Spring never dies, even in the darkest hours.





	1. Barristan

**Author's Note:**

> OK, I haven't written fanfic for maybe 20 years. Yep, that long (the title should give you a clue for what the fandom was, kudos for who finds out). I don't even know if it was called fanfic then. I've been an avid reader of fanfic for a long time but only now decided to start writing again. I don't know how long this is going to be or where it will take me. I'm doing this a way to get my writing mojo back, to be honest. My day job includes writing (nothing to do with fiction) but I've been having a bit of a writers' block lately and I hope this helps.
> 
> This is going to have elements of the books and the TV series. That's why Ser Barristan is very much alive. I just take what I like from each of the sources. 
> 
> The plot (if we may call it that) starts right before Daenerys, Jon, and their entourage set sail for White Harbour. Hopefully I will be able to post another chapter soon.

# If There Was a Man 

### Barristan 

It had been a long time since he had laid eyes on Dragonstone. The last he had been here Rhaegar still lived, before the Tournament at Harrenhal. The thought of what happened afterwards made his heart clench. But now he was back and so were the Targaryens. After his Queen had set sail for Westeros to take the throne he had stayed behind, making sure the Bay of Dragons stayed true to their new ruler and that ready supplies could be sent across the Narrow Sea as needed during the approaching winter. As much as he wished to see Daenerys set foot on the ancient seat of her house someone needed to take care that her conquest would not be short lived for lack of food or gold, and that person would be him. 

After crossing the sea he found himself serving the queen in a different way, contacting old friends and noblemen he knew would be sympathetic to a Targaryen restauration. Time would tell if his efforts bore fruit. While he was away much had happened. He had heard some of it from commonfolk in his travels, how the Targaryen forces had taken Casterly Rock but lost Highgarden, how the queen had burned her enemies in battle but had spared those who wished to join her. _What fool would deny her_ he thought, but then again Lord Tarly seemed to always find it in him to choose the losing side of every conflict. During the Rebellion he had sided with the Crown against Robert, and Robert had won. He had respected him for it but now he had decided to side against with Cersei Daenerys Targaryen and he had burned for it and taken his son with him. _Fools, both of them_. Barristan had also heard the so-called King in the North had declared his support for Daenerys. Of course, no son of Ned Stark’s would ever side with Cersei after what had happened but the reasons for bending the knee were still a mystery to him. He would have to hear about the parley in King’s Landing and the terms of the agreement from a reliable source but he was still surprised by the insistent rumours that the Targaryen forces would join the to fight some enemy that sounded as if from a children’s tale.

“Sir Barristan!” he heard his queen as she turned to him in a walkway. Tyrion Lannister had directed him to her as soon as he had arrived. She smiled as she extended her hands to him. He took to one knee and kissed them but she quickly pulled him to his feet. The sight of her was a confort to his old hear. He had loved her brother like his own, but she was closer to a daughter, one he would never have. 

“My queen, it is good to see you again. I have heard worrying reports, I wished I could have been by your side to protect you.” She smiled to him and he seemed to sense some sadness clouding her eyes.

“You were doing important work that I would not have trusted anyone else” she said after a moment. “I would be lying if I said I did not wish you close many times but needs must. Did everything go as expected?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Grain and gold has been arranged to arrive a regular intervals, as well as weapons and other necessary goods from across the sea. I have also spoken to a few trusted friends, men I knew from my own youth. Cersei is not loved, and though the shadow of your father’s doings still lingers I have managed to gain support, in secret, to your cause. Give the order and many Stormlands houses will rally behind you.”

“That is good, we will need any help we can find” she said with a pensive look as they walked. “As you may have heard I have changed my plans.” There was a serious look on her face as she said it. “We have reached a temporary truce with Cersei, there are more immediate dangers that need to be dealt with before I can take my throne. I will set sail North tomorrow, at break of dawn. The bulk of the forces will follow by foot. Ser Barristan, the Others are real, they’re not just stories made to scare children into behaving. I have seen them with mine own eyes, North of the Wall, and they are gathering forces. Sooner rather than later they will invade and if we don’t stop them there will be no one alive in this world. Viseryon fell there, to the hand of the Night King…” she stopped and he could hear the emotion in her voice. He opened his mouth to speak but she had already regained her composure and spoke first “We have to win this war first, nothing else matters at the moment. I will avenge my child, only then I will take the Iron Throne.”

“Are you sure, my Queen? If these monsters exist, they are beyond the Wall, which has stood for thousands of years!” but she was shaking her head.

“No, Ser Barristan. I saw them. The dead are coming to take us all and I will not allow it, nor will the King in the North.” There was such a certainty in her eyes, a look of desperate hope, that he could not help but trust her, yet again. _The Gods have kept me alive to see magic and wonder, are they cruel to make me see such horror before I meet my end?_

As the Queen told him briefly of the happenings of the past few months they were apart, they finally came to an inner courtyard. There were men sparring, Westerosi, and Unsullied, and Dothraki. It was quite a sight to see such different men training with one another. There was still hope. Somehow that was always the last thing to go. The Queen’s eyes seemed set on two men and Barristan turned his eyes to them as well. One was an Unsullied, the other wore simple but well-made Northern garb, likely part of the Bastard King’s retinue. It was a good fight, indeed. Both men masters of their skill. They spared each other’s attacks beautifully despite their different training. The Unsullied were almost invincible, the rigour of their training made them the perfect soldiers but somehow the northman stopped each strike as if expecting it, dancing around his opponent with a gracefulness and skill he had seldom seen in his long life. Whoever was under that simple helm was no ordinary knight. The thrill of the fight seemed to contaminate those present in the courtyard and everyone had stopped to watch. Even the Queen seemed to be hanging on every move. _Gods, who is this man?_ Suddenly, the Unsullied lost his foot, the Northerner unexpectedly striking with his training sword from below, followed by a masterful move of his shield that disarmed the other man, throwing him to the floor without a chance for recovery. He felt a pang in his heart, as if he had travelled through time and he was once again here, long ago in this very spot watching other men, long gone, sparring. _I must be going mad, or the Gods have come to take me away_. He could see those around him clapping their hands and raising their weapons, Essossi and Westerosi alike, cheering for the winner. The Queen smiled faintly, as if hiding her contentment. Yet, he could not hear them, as if all was happening in slow motion as past and present seemed to be melting in his mind. He felt himself fall. Suddenly, the Queen turned sharply to him, could see rather than hear her scream for help. The winner dropping his training sword and shield, running towards them, his hand in his helm to remove it. _I am dying, and my ghosts have come to take me_. But the face hidden by the helm was not the one he was expecting. _It’s his hair, but not the colour. The same eyes, and dark, but the wrong shade_. And in a second he could hear again and felt himself return to his senses. 

“Ser Barristan, the Maester will be here soon! Hold on, don’t fail me now. Please, Ser Barristan!” cried the Queen.

His voice returned at last, weak and confused. “It’s impossible.” He tried to lift himself but failed, then felt a strong arm holding him.

“I will help you, don’t exert yourself.” _Same voice, wrong accent. I am indeed going mad!_ “What do you feel, tell us.” It was the Northman.

“I have seen a ghost…” and the world turned black.

***

“It’s quite alright, Your Grace. Don’t worry yourself on account of an old man. I’m quite myself again, I just needed a bit of rest, is all. I’m not as strong as I once was, I’m afraid, and my journey here was tiresome. It’s quite alright, I assure you!” said Ser Barristan lying in bed in a comfortable chamber as his Queen paced up.

“Drink, Ser Barristan. It’s a strengthening tonic. It will set your heart rate right again.” Said the young man who had introduced himself as Maester Alleras, small of stature, with intelligent eyes and a Dornish accent. The draught tasted of flowers, not too unpleasant, but he always thought the foulest tasting the most effective the remedy and he began to doubt the young man’s abilities.

“I cannot lose you now, Ser Barristan. You are precious to me and I am tired of losing those I care for” he felt his face grow red, be it from the potion or from his Queen’s words he could not tell. 

“He will be fine, Your Grace. I can assure you.” Said the Maester looking at the Queen earnestly then turning to him. “It seems, Ser, that you were overcome by some powerful emotion. Your heart was beating so fast I could hardly count when I took your pulse. Can you tell me what happened? It would be good to understand how this came to be so that I can treat you accordingly.”

“I can’t remember what happened” lied Ser Barristan, he could remember everything. “I think it must have been the emotion of being back in Dragonstone. The last I was here was before the Rebellion, too many memories you see? An old man’s heart can only take so much.”

“You said you saw a ghost! Then you felt into the King’s arms and would not come to your senses.” Explained Daenerys.

“The King?” said Ser Barristan, curious. _So that is who he is. Ned’s bastard boy, the one who took the black and dark rumours said came back from the dead to avenge his family._

“Yes, Jon Snow of House Stark, the King in the North.” There was a strange softness to her voice as she spoke. “He is my ally, as I mentioned before. He declared his support to my cause, and I for his. After the war for the Dawn is won he will help me take back the Iron Throne.”

“But you still refer to him as King, did he not bend the knee?” 

“Yes, but he will remain as King for now. The North will not take easily to a southern ruler any longer. In time, they will accept me as their rightful Queen. When that time comes, he will become Warden of the North as his forefathers before him.”

“Very well, if his word is as good as Ned Stark’s there is no cause for doubting.” _Ned Stark, the most honourable man in the seven kingdoms. I wonder how many secrets he took to his grave._

“Ser Barristan, it was my initial idea to send you commanding my armies who ride North but I decided otherwise. We cannot risk your recovery.” Ser Barristan opened his mouth to speak but she cut him short. “If Maester Alleras agrees, you will sail with me and the King to White Harbour instead. You will be comfortable on board. After landing we will travel the King’s Road until we meet my troops and arrive at Winterfell, if the weather is kind, in 3 weeks’ time. Do I have your agreement?”

“I am yours to command, Your Grace. It will be an honour.”

“Maester?” said the Queen.

“I can’t see why not, Your Grace. I will prepare enough tonic for the trip and write a letter to my colleague in Winterfell to continue the treatment as he sees fit. Maester Wolkan is an old acquaintance of mine, a good man and a talented healer.” 

“Well then” said the Queen with a smile. “Prepare everything. Tomorrow at dawn break we sail North. I am glad you are coming with us. And you will like the King’s company, Ser Barristan.” 

_Oh, of that I am sure_ , though Ser Barristan.


	2. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We follow Daenerys while leaving Dragonstone and her first day on the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day everyone (and happy birthday to me). I’m overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter, thanks to all of you who left kudos and lovely messages. I hope you enjoy this next one. I went back and forth as I'm not sure whether to include “boatsex” or not. Many have done a wonderful work putting it to page and I’m not so sure I’m any good at writing smut lol. So, without further ado, here’s Daenerys.
> 
> Additional note: this chapter was posted before but I had to delete it because due to a glitch it wasn't showing up in searches but only to subscribers. Sorry for those who left messages before!

# If There Was a Man

### Daenerys

She had hardly slept from anticipation. They were to sail North at break or dawn to fight a war she was not sure they could win. Still, she could not possibly stay back and watch while the North battled alone. Not when it was for life itself they were fighting, not when her own child needed to be avenged, not when her other children were their only hope of survival. _Not when he is risking his own life, again._

She knew the risks well enough and still, she felt like she had no choice in the matter. It was part of her destiny to fight this battle. If they lost there would be no Iron Throne to sit on, no Seven Kingdoms to rule over, it would all be for nothing. She truly had no choice. _If I look back I’m lost._

The day before she had sent most of her Unsullied, Dothraki, and Westerosi troops North. As she said her farewell Dany told them of the importance of their mission and the glory once they returned victorious but inside she trembled. Was she sending these men to their deaths? The men from Westeros who had joined her after her victories were less at ease, they all had heard stories from their childhood of the Others, they heard of the rigours of Winter even when they had only lived in summer. The small force she left in the south, protecting Dragonstone and the other territories she had gained in battle, had sighed a breath of release when receiving their orders. Ser Jorah, her bloodriders and her Unsullied captains lead her armies on their way North. She knew what it meant for her Bear, to go back to the land he had once left in shame. He had been forbidden to return, the late Lord Eddard Stark had sentenced him to death after having been caught in slave trade, and he had ran away to Essos in infamy. He had paid the price for his crimes. Now he returned with the blessing of the King in the North himself but he was aware his welcome would be as cold as the weather. Still, the man seemed eager to go. _He longs for home even if it is to meet his own death._

She had left her bed in the middle of the night, there was no use in remaining there as she knew sleep would not come. Dany had often gone and seen the sun rise from one of the turrets facing the East. After a lifetime spent in Essos it was still a wonder to see the sun being born from the water. But there was another reason for her frequent early escapades to the small window facing the hidden cove. One morning, after a restless night had dragged her there for some peaceful moments, she noticed someone on the beach, alone. It was a man and there was no mistaking who. _Jon Snow_. He had left his heavy cloak folded carefully over a stone and then stripped to his small clothes and removed the leather band that tied his hair. He stood for a moment facing the sea before he entered it. He was a good swimmer, now she knew that skill had probably saved his life later on. He looked so young at that moment, so free, so wild. He had swam for a while before returning to shore, his wet small clothes leaving little to the imagination even from that far away. But the sight had been short lived as he wrapped his cloak around him and returned to the castle. She had not dared telling anyone about it and she could hardly admit it to herself that she came to that same turret time and again not just for the sunrise but also for the sight of him. Every time the ritual repeated itself and in those precious moments she somehow felt closer to him, although it did nothing to help calm her down or make her nights less troubled as he had found a way into her very dreams.

When she thought she had lost him beyond the wall and later, as he was lying in bed and would not wake up from his injuries, she had come to terms with her feelings. In the past Dany had often dreamt of a lover, young and comely, with a face hidden in shadow. As she saw Jon lying there he recognized the lover, his face was clear now, and she was scared and ran away. Afraid of what might happen if she gave in, afraid of her destiny. She knew he felt the same about her, she could see a fire hidden deep beneath his mask of ice… had he been another type of man he would have taken her by now but Jon was far too honourable. She was not going to run away from her feelings any longer. _It’s getting late, he’s not coming today._

She returned to her chambers to find Missandei waiting for her. “All your things have been transported to the ship, Your Grace. We should get going” her translator said. It was good to have her on this trip. She was leaving her handmaids behind in Dragonstone, war was no place for them. She looked back a final time to her bed, the room she had been born in and where her mother have died and turned for the door. 

”You are right, it is time” she said finally. 

The ship that would take them North was the same that had transported them from the Wall. Dany’s cabin was as comfortable as it could be with a brazier to warm her nights. Her chests were already arranged in their rightful place and the bed was arranged with soft furs. There were also fine cabins for the rest of her entourage. A few guards sailed with them, apart from the crew itself. Two other ships served as guard and carried dragonglass and provisions to keep them fed during the winter. With kind weather the trip to White Harbour should take them less than two weeks but now that Winter was upon them the Narrow Sea could hold surprises.

Later that day she was in the deck looking at her dragons flying high above them and heard someone approaching. “A fine day to sail, Your Grace” said Ser Barristan. The commander of her Queen’s guard had given her cause to worry the day before but was looking much healthier now.

”I hope you are feeling well, is everything to your liking?” she asked him.

”I am feeling much better, thank you. You are far too kind to me. I have seldom occupied more comfortable quarters in my long life” her old friend answered.

“So you don’t mind sharing lodgings with Ser Davos? I thought you would do well together” the onion knight had in fact offered to share his cabin, the two men had met long ago while Ser Davos was in the service of Stannis Baratheon and seemed to share a measure of respect for one another.

”I couldn’t have picked better. He is a good man, Your Grace, simple and honest which taking into account he used to be a smuggler is saying something. He will have to tell me how he came to be in the service of King Jon, I’m sure it is quite a story” he said with a smile. 

”Indeed it is. I’m sure he will put you up to date with what has happened to him while you were away and about the situation we are facing. At least while we are travelling we can prepare ourselves mentally for the task ahead. Once you feel fully recovered I would like you to speak with Tyrion and the King. This is a war like no other and if we expect to win we will need a new kind of strategy. We need to be smart and protect the living at all costs. I’m counting on you and your experience to help us find a way to win.

”I will start working on it right away, Your Grace” the older men said. 

”No, please. I left clear instructions that you would not get any details for at least two more days. Will you promise me you’ll rest? Please, Ser Barristan” Dany pleaded. 

”Very well, as you wish” he finally agreed. “I was pleased to meet the King in the North, I knew Ned Stark, he was a good man and honourable as few. I hear Jon Snow has gained a similar reputation, and adding to that I heard some claim he is one of the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms. From what I saw yesterday in the courtyard I have no doubts. I have made him promise we would train one of these days but I fear he is worried my health is not up to the task, not that he said it in so many words. I intend to prove him otherwise, my sword arm is not as strong as it once was but I can still teach a young man a thing or two.” He stopped for a moment, uneasily. ”I heard rumours he was released from his vow to the Watch by death. I do not put much faith in these stories but when I asked him he quickly moved the conversation elsewhere and seemed troubled by my question” he said gravely.

Dany looked at him with furrowed brows and diverted her eyes before answering. “I do not know for sure what has happened, he never spoke of it. But I have seen too many impossible things happening that I would not believe something of the kind. I have seen the scars he carries in him chest when he was rescued in Castle Black and I find it difficult to believe anyone would have survived such wounds. As to the rest, he is certainly a man of honour and I can vouch for him being an extraordinary swordsman, I had the chance of seeing him fight beyond the wall. But he won’t admit it, his honour makes him incapable of bragging about his skills. I don’t think I ever met anyone so humble and with less reason to be so, Ser Barristan” she paused as if the thought was painful, then looked the knight straight in the eye “and I never saw such selfless courage.” She averted her eyes again so he would not see her courage falter.

”Humbleness is a mark of greatness, Your Grace.” she was glad to see a smile of approval on his face. Ser Barristan never approved of Daario, and with good reason. She had been weak, mistaking her infatuation and need for physical comfort as love and allowing him much more than he deserved. He had given her pleasure but had treated her like a whore, always boasting of bedding the Queen to whoever could hear him. In the end it had been a relief to find that she did not miss him. He loved the Queen, not the woman. He loved the sense of power that came from ruling over her in her bedchamber. _A sellsword has no honour._

They spoke about lighter things afterwards, Ser Barristan delighting her with tales of times past and stories of her dead brother Rhaegar. Her old knight seemed to be in a formidable mood and she could see that whatever had troubled him the day before was not weighing him down any longer. A while later he took his leave from her and left Dany alone, looking at the ocean. 

”Good afternoon, Lord Snow. Mayhap you would be so kind as to keep Her Grace company?” Dany heard him say behind her. 

”Glady, Ser Barristan, if she wishes. Though I’m afraid I don’t make for very entertaining company.”

”You do yourself injustice. Please, do join me” she invited. Jon approached her and set his hands on the railings of the ship, looking to the horizon. They stayed like that for a long while, in contemplation. Finally it was Jon who broke the silence.

”Ser Barristan is a good man, it was one of my childhood dreams to meet him but one I never thought would come true. I’m glad I wasn’t disappointed in him, I hope he can indulge my curiosity on some of his exploits.” Jon Snow’s face suddenly wore a mask of seriousness, if more was even possible. Without looking at her he declared “I wish to be part of your Queen’s Guard when this is over. That is, if you will accept me and my sword.” 

Dany looked at him shocked. He could not possibly be serious? “But you will be Warden of the North, as your father and all your forefathers before him… and your children after! Jon, a Guard serves for life, cannot own lands, or take a wife, or father children. Did you not have enough of these vows when you were a man of the Watch?” 

”I have no wish for fathering children, I have no name to give them. That was one of the reasons I took the black in the first place. As to an heir to the North, I’m sure one of my sisters or my brother, depending on how serious his condition, may provide one. The name Stark will continue, but not by me. I’m a Snow” he declared bitterly. 

”I could legitimize you, you could legitimize yourself. You need not remain a Snow all your life” she felt a sadness filling her that someone so good could think himself so unworthy. 

”I had the chance of becoming a Stark and refused. If my father wished to legitimize me he would need only ask, and he never did. Snow fits me well, Your Grace, I have come to terms with my station long ago.”

”Still, you could be lord of a keep, take a wife” _take me, Jon._

With barely a whisper, he answered “The only one I could wish to take for a wife is not within my reach.” Could he be speaking of some other woman? Dany did not want to accept that possibility, besides his eyes betrayed his true feelings every time he looked at her.

”No sane woman would possibly deny you, you do not know your true value Jon Snow. And if she did, I would personally convince her of her folly. Ask her, open your heart…” 

Suddenly he turned to her, fire in his eyes but words pained and whispered “You cannot possibly pretend you don’t know my f…” his reply was suddenly cut short my her Lord Hand, _damn you, Tyrion!_

”Your Grace, Lord Snow, it is time for our evening meal. Everyone is waiting” Tyrion’s brow was frowned but he turned around with an invitation for them to follow. 

”We will be right with you” then turning to Jon she said again “Ask her, do not wait” and left with her Hand. Jon stayed behind.

During dinner Jon barely looked at her, barely spoke a word. _Is he avoiding me, could I possibly be mistaken?_ Afterwards they all took to their respective quarters. She had no sleep, so sat on her desk reading some book without paying any attention to it. She was startled by a knock on her door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, not much happens in this chapter, right? It's heavy on angst though. Let me know what you think.


	3. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon’s first day on the ship ending with you know what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, here’s the new chapter. I decided I wanted to have this in Jon’s POV as soon as I decided I was going to write this story. The problem was that I’m not a man and I underestimated how difficult it was to put myself in his shoes. Moreover, my first version contained, let’s just say, almost scientific descriptions. I had to let my imagination fly free for a while so that I could write this. I still think I’m no good at writing smut but you be the judge.

# If there was a man

### Jon

When Jon came back from the dead, he had been afraid he was not truly alive. He would catch himself feeling the beat of his own heart to make sure it was real, he had felt relief as he noticed he bled and healed as any other man. Except the wounds that got him killed in the first place, those had never healed properly, maybe never would. _I was lucky_ , he would repeat to himself. Still, after a while he had wondered if his body and his soul could still love. At least he knew he still loved his siblings. Any doubt had vanished the moment he set eyes on Sansa. But that was a different matter. As to his body, he hadn’t had to wonder for long. Val had shown up in his room one night still at Castle Black. He hadn’t laid with a woman since Ygritte and when she bolted the door behind her and began to undress he could not resist her. Truth be told, he didn’t want to. He had woken up to her taking a cup of moon tea and smiling at him. “Not that I don’t like the idea of carrying a babe of yours, and it’s not because you don’t want one. I just don’t intend to fight this war with some waddling child behind me. No need to thank about last night, my pleasure really. Way I see it, you never been more alive than now, Lord Crow. Anytime you want another go you know where to find me.” And she stormed out the door before he could say anything to her. Val was beautiful, but he had felt nothing but lust for her. His heart only beat faster as he got close to the Dragon Queen, a mixture of fear and raw desire he could not explain. Jon couldn’t stop thinking about her and yet he still did not know whether he might have a chance with her or not. Waking up after returning from beyond the wall, he had found Daenerys sitting by his bed, a loving face full of worry. He had decided in that moment that he would not hide his feelings from her any further but when he took her hand, she shied from him and he felt like a fool. Maybe she was scared, as scared as he was of the consequences, or maybe he was misreading her signs and she felt nothing but friendship towards him. Still, in King’s Landing, he could have sworn she looked at him, even spoke to him, differently from any other. She had again told him she could not bear children. He wondered if that was why she was keeping her distance. If so, she needed to know that meant nothing to him. When he asked her to sail North she headed to his advice, looking straight at him with those beautiful purple eyes, and said they would sail together. As in the same ship. _Surely that meant something?_ But she kept her distance. The day before she had had a sad look upon her face all day and had no wish for talking. She awaited for the arrival of the Lord Commander of her Queen’s Guard, the legendary Ser Barristan the Bold. The lucky man had all her attention for the rest of the day. 

Jon had hardly slept with the anticipation of the trip. He usually slept badly anyhow, his nights plagued sometimes with nightmares, others with sweet dreams of her that left him so shaken he would sometimes find himself going for a swim on the small beach in Dragonstone to see if the freezing water could quench his fire. Yes, he was again a living man and had a living man’s desires. Still, he felt himself changed when coming back. He always had a temper, but now it was harder to control. He was more impulsive and his moods were darker than before. Not that anyone usually noticed, though. His upbringing had taught him to keep a tight leech on his own behaviour and if his self-control and honour earned him the respect he craved, his unpredictability put fear in his enemies, which wasn’t undesirable either.

Midmorning, as he was returning to his own cabin to sort some of his own belongings, he heard a voice calling him behind an open door. “Your Grace? Do you have a moment?” said Ser Barristan from the inside a cabin.

”Of course, Ser Barristan. I was looking forward to properly meeting you, after yesterday’s commotion. It is an honour, Ser” he said, shaking the older man’s hand and offering a rare smile. The man had been one of the greatest swordsmen in Westeros and his achievements would go down in history. His Lord father had told him the man’s skill was only matched by his honour and his courage. 

”You flatter me, my Lord, and I have not come here to be flattered.” The older man stopped for a heartbeat and eyed him curiously. “My queen and Ser Davos speak so highly of you I was curious to meet you!” Jon felt himself blush, what had they told the old knight? “No need to be worried, all good things. Before I had my small indisposition yesterday I had the chance to appreciate your skill with the sword. Not bad, I say!” 

”I can imagine no greater compliment than coming from you! Ser Rodrik Cassel was my master-at-arms at Winterfell, he was a skilled teacher” he rather preferred to forget the other one he had at Castle Black, the only lesson Ser Allister had taught him was treachery.

”I never had the pleasure of meeting him but I have heard him mentioned as a capable and good man. Still, having a good master is not all. Natural talent and practical experience do the rest. That last move you used to unarm your opponent was very unusual, I doubt anyone taught you that.” The man was looking at him closely again, for a moment he wondered if he had food on his face. “Is Ser Rodrik still at Winterfell, I would like to meet him.” Jon’s countenance saddened at the question.

”Saddly, Ser Rodrik was killed when Theon Greyjoy took Winterfell.” He would never forgive Theon for what happened. “Most of those who served in my father’s time have perished then.”

”I am sorry to hear that, I only heard briefly what happened. I was across the Narrow Sea at that time. You may have heard I was dismissed from the King’s Guard as soon as Robert died…” he paused, as if measuring his words “I was outside the Sept of Baelor, in disguise, that horrible day when Lord Stark was executed. I am truly sorry for what happened to him and to you and your family after, he was a truly good man. That was the day I decided to leave Westeros.”

”Thank you, Ser Barristan. He held you in great account as well. We all felt lost when he died.” _Maybe we still are._

”But you have regained Winterfell, you’re a King now!”

”Not for long, I bent the knee to Queen Daenerys, though it’s not common knowledge yet. If by some miracle we manage to survive this winter I will help put her on the throne and the North will no longer be independent. Her Grace says she will name me Warden of the North but I doubt my fellow Northmen will take my surrender kindly” Jon said gravely. He knew full well his domain over the North was feeble at best. Would his fellow compatriots accept a bastard ruling over them, then? Especially now that Bran was back. Deep inside he had no wish to become Warden.

”Your Grace, I haven’t known you long but I have the impression you have much to give to this realm. Besides, the Queen will not forget your loyalty, you can rest assured” declared Ser Barristan. 

”Aye, you are right” and an idea suddenly came into his mind. If nothing else, he would find a place for himself in her Queen’s Guard. To serve the same purpose of such men as Prince Aemon the Dragonknight (his great childhood hero), Ser Duncan the Tall, the Sword of the Morning, or Ser Barristan the Bold was a noble calling indeed. He would tell her and if she truly wanted him, as a man, she will not allow him to take another vow, if she didn’t at least he could remain by her side.

His companion interrupted his reverie “You are an uncommon man, Your Grace. A common man would not have been release from vows to the Night’s Watch and go on to become King, least of all one sporting a bastard name.” Jon did not like to path this conversation was now taking and tried interrupting but Ser Barristan just kept speaking. “I have heard dark rumours about what happened. I have seen things in my life that I would never have thought possible. Dragons are flying above us just as we speak! Whatever may have happened, it must have been for a reason” the older man was obviously trying to make him speak but Jon had only told his story once, to his sister. Let the knight keep wondering what happened, he was not going to tell him.

”A story for another time” Jon answered swiftly, before Ser Barristan uttered another word. “I’d rather hear how you came to be in the service of Daenerys Stormborn.” The old knight looked at him kindly and whether he understood the previous subject was painful to him or not he changed his subject and carried on telling his tale.

Later that day he met with Daenerys and told her of his future plans. She had been shocked by his decision and tried to convince him otherwise. Told him he could get married, have children. Now he was sure that was what was keeping her away from him and he made sure she knew it mattered nothing to him. He never wished for children due to his status, although having a child, especially with someone like her, would have made him a happy man. _Maybe she’s wrong, maybe the witch was lying._ He was only sure he would not father a child out of wedlock, he would not impose such a burden on an innocent. Her parting words to him, before their evening meal, had made up his mind. He would seek her tonight. If she sent him away he would do his best to forget her. _If she doesn’t send me away, Gods help us!_

He was pacing up and down his cabin after supper. Her eyes had searched for his all night but he was afraid he would make his feelings too obvious for the others with them. He wanted to make sure everyone had already retired before he sought her, whatever they would do he would not damage her honour. He almost did not go, thinking what a mad fool he was to think that a Queen would want anything to do with a bastard. But then he remembered her words “Ask her, do not wait” and her pleading eyes. No, he was not wrong, his affections were returned. 

He found himself at her door and gathered his courage to knock. After a moment she answered. Without unlocking their eyes from each other she stepped aside to let him in. He closed and bolted it behind him. Their eyes were not going anywhere and for a few moments none of them spoke. Suddenly, the silence broke.

”Jon” it was the first time she called him that. His name had never sounded sweeter to him. “Won’t you tell me why you came?” she asked with a smile.

_Gods, she is teasing me._ “You told me to ask, so that’s what I’m here for. I feel like I’m not going mad! I need to ask if you feel for me what I feel for you. I need to know if I can have hope than one day we might be more than just allies.”

She got closer to him and he took her hands in his, eyes pleading for an answer. Her eyes hadn’t left his yet. “Jon, I…”

He quickly interrupted her, suddenly aware of the folly of his request. “I have no lands, no money, not even a name to call my own. Nothing I haven’t already given you except for myself. So if you’ll have me, I’m yours. And if you won’t, I’m still yours, I will still fight for you no matter what but I shan’t bother you again with silly feelings ever again. I was never one for fancy words, I know I have no right asking anything of you but I still must ask, otherwise I’ll go mad. If we survive, once the fight is over, will you have me? Will you be mine?” he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders by merely opening his heart to her. 

She held his hands tight and got even closer and finally said “I’ll have you now, damn the consequences. I’ll have you now and forever Jon.” He could hardly believe what she was telling him, his heart was jumping from his chest. 

He raised his hand to caress her beautiful face with his hand, brushing a thumb over her lower lip. She pushed him down and kissed him, gently but passionately, and he felt his desire grow. He suddenly backed away before he could embarrass himself in front of her. “Why did you stop?”

”’cause if I don’t stop now, I won’t stop at all.” He answered shyly. 

She pressed herself flush against him and said “What if I don’t want to you stop? From what I can see, neither do you.” Too late to avoid embarrassment, then. She could obviously feel the growing bulge between his legs and was now slowly grinding herself against him. It was as if something had snapped inside of him, letting lose a beast. No time for self-control, she wanted him and he wanted her. Suddenly his hands were all over her as he kissed her deeply. She responded in kind and he never thought she would be so hungry for him, her hands wrestling with the buckles of his boiled leather armour until it came out. In a short time they were down to their small clothes, all the while kissing as if their life depended on it. They got rid of their remaining clothes and fell on the bed naked as their namedays.

He paused to look at her, so beautiful and inviting. He might not be the most experienced in the things of love but he knew how to please a woman. He started kissing her feet, softly, letting his beard lightly tickle her skin as he moved upwards at a slow pace. He could see her smile when he looked up, her hands grabbing the bedlinens at her sides. As his hands started separating her legs he moved on to her inner thighs. Her breathing was becoming noticeably deeper and when he reached her mound and kissed her there she sighed deeply. He beheld the tight silver curls that covered her sex and waited there for just a moment savouring the anticipation. As he kissed her lower lips and let his tongue slip in between she suddenly moved uncomfortably and he heard her gasp. “If you don’t like it I can stop” he asked, while hoping she wouldn’t.

”No, don’t stop. I was just surprised, is all” _Is it possible no man ever done this to her? That I’m the first to kiss her there?_ That left him strangely excited. He knew she had wedded twice, if the fools didn’t know how to pleasure her then he did. He carried on from where he had stopped, kissing her and moving his tongue between her folds again, very slowly. _So soft, so sweet._ He soon felt herself relax so he increased the intensity of his ministrations and could hear her softly moan. He found the small bud at the crest of her lips and lingered there, sucking, licking, and kissing. Her breathing was more and more laboured and her sighs were increasing in volume in such a way he was afraid someone might hear them. She must have thought the same because her next cries were muffled, as she bit her hand while arching her back in pleasure, giving in to the pleasure. As her breathing came back to normal he moved up, kissing her navel, her full breasts, and finally her mouth, lying by her side and pulling her close to him. Her kisses were even more desperate than before as she leaned over him. He could feel she wanted more, and so did he, but he also wanted this to last as long as possible. 

Her mouth left his and went down to his chin, his neck, his collarbone. Carefully, she was now tracing each of his scars and dropping delicate kisses along the way. When she reached the last one though, she didn’t stop as he imagined she would. She looked at his hard manhood pressed against his abdomen and gave the engorged head a kiss. A breathless “Dany” was all he could manage to say. He pushed her up again for a kiss as he was afraid if she continued he might come there and then. Their kisses were hungry and their hands wouldn’t stop their caresses. Every now and then he could feel her fingers lightly brush over his cock leaving him, if possible, even harder than before. She had settled comfortably around his thigh and he could feel she was dripping wet with lust. He could wait no longer, he needed to be inside her.

He swiftly turned them over, landing between her open legs and to his wonder he entered her immediately without any guidance, her loins enveloping him tightly. They were made for each other, even their bodies fit perfectly. She left out a deep moan as he plunged deeper and he stopped for a moment to look at her. What he saw before him was the look of love. She gave him a smile, her hands clutched at his back, and he knew he was lost forever. As they again moved together, lips aching for one another, one body with two souls, he forgot about the world outside. There were no Others, no Iron Throne, no Starks and Targaryans, no knives in the dark, no Winter, and no sadness. There was only a man and a woman, and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, if I should let smut writing for others of if maybe I can give it another go in future chapters. This is one thing I honestly can't critically evaluate in myself.


	4. Barristan II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barristan organizes his thoughts and decisions are taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, let me thank you all for the great reception this story had been having. It really is amazing to read all the messages!  
> Second, sorry for taking so long to update this. I have another chapter almost written but then I thought some things should happen in between. I decided to move the story along a bit faster than I initially intended, and who better than Ser Barristan to serve as witness?  
> This chapter is really all about Ser Barristan alone with his own thoughts and a meeting where Daenerys throws some big news on the table.  
> Hope you enjoy it.

# If there was a man

### Barristan

_How am I to live with this knowledge?_ Barristan had spent the last two days thinking about how it was possible that Ned Stark had managed to run this deception under everyone’s noses. He had to give it to the man, he was far more cunning than anyone could have imagined. He had said the boy was his and nobody dared question the word of someone as honourable as him, a man not one thought capable of lying. Except, he was. Barristan had seen it with his own eyes when Lord Stark had lied to his teeth and publicly confessed to a crime he had not committed and died for it. Dignified to the end. Now that he had guessed the truth, so much finally made sense to Barristan. He always wondered why his sworn brothers had remained at the Tower of Joy when their Prince and the rest of the royal family needed their protection more than ever. Even after Rhaegar had fallen (and they must have heard the news, surely) they remained at their post. Doing what? Guarding a woman whose abductor was dead? No, his brothers had not abandoned forsaken their duty by staying in Dorne, they had fulfilled it. If they were there it was because they were keeping guard to the potential heir. He now had no doubts about that although he had no idea how or when, Rhaegar had wedded his Lady Lyanna. Whatever issue she carried would be trueborn and with the death of Rhaegar and his other two children this babe was next in line. Yet, no one ever heard he even existed and those who might have known the truth were long gone. At first, he thought maybe the lad knew of his true parentage but it became obvious, even painfully so,when speaking to him, that he thought himself a bastard and nothing more. Growing up as such must have been a humbling (even painful) experience. Still, there was a strange pride in the way he carried himself, as if telling the world he might have been born in sin but he lived in honour. He had a will of steel but was not inflexible. Yes, Barristan had immediately liked him. Not because he was the blood of his long lost Prince and friend, but because he seemed to combine the best of his parents in him, even without knowing it. 

Ned had been able to hide him easily because to most eyes he looked purely a Stark, as if there was no other blood running through his veins. Dark of hair, grey of eye, long-faced… the look of a wolf. Yet, for those who knew where to look, there was much more to see. He had managed to get a good look at him, Barristan was even afraid he was not being very discreet in his curiosity. The shape of his eyes and the sadness in them were all Rhaegar’s, as were the fullness of lips, the profile of his nose, and the wildness of his hair. Although truth be told the Lady Lyanna had a wild hair as well. What impressed Barristan most, though, was the tone of his voice and the graceful way he moved. It was Rhaegar come again. Few still lived that had known the Dragon Prince in life, at least well enough, and fewer yet who could make the connection but he still wondered how it was that the secret had been kept for so long. It was a cruel jest that he had been raised as a bastard and sent off to the Wall so young, to waste his life, when he could have ruled the Seven Kingdoms. _He still might though…_

Barristan was fiercely loyal to his Queen, of that there could be no doubt. Yet, he thought that if there was a chance of proving the lad was Rhaegar’s son it would be for the benefit of both of them. He knew how the Queen suffered for the fact she was the last one of her family. Daenerys often asked Barristan for stories of her family. If she found out she was not the last one he knew nobody would be happier than her, whether Jon was trueborn or bastard did not matter in the end. Family and home were her true dreams, the Iron Throne was just an extra. He needed to find a way to prove that the King in the North was, in fact, Rhaegar’s son. 

That morning Barristan entered the common room they used for their meals in the boat. The cook was serving breakfast, fried bread with a slice of bacon and half an orange. They all ate the same, crew and passengers. War was no time for extravagances, only the Gods could tell how long it would last and Winter was only just starting. Ser Davos was sitting at a table by Lord Tyrion and he decided to join them. “Morning all” he greeted the present, who answered in return. He sat on the table and the cook immediately served him. Tyrion had the look of someone who had had a difficult night, the meal almost untouched in front of him. 

”The Sea doesn’t agree with Lord Tyrion” offered the former smuggler. “I hope we will fare better today, more weather such as we had last night will delay our journey.”

”I don’t mind the sea, worries keep me awake Ser, not winds” said Tyrion. It was obvious the man was in a less than brilliant mood today.

”I don’t sleep much anyhow,” said Ser Barristan “but the winds and rain on the deck did keep me awake for longer than I wished. Ser Davos, on the other hand, seemed to sleep like a babe!”

”A life spent at sea, Ser Barristan. I find myself sleeping better on a ship than on firm ground. It bothered my wife to no end! For someone unused, though, it can be terrible. Except if you’re young, then you can sleep anywhere. The King was just telling me this morning he hadn’t even noticed the storm!” Tyrion nearly choked on a piece of bread and was now coughing his lungs out. “Now there, Lord Tyrion” continued the man while energetically slapping the dwarf on the back “feeling better?”

”Thank you Ser Davos, you can stop now. I say, I haven’t seen you with this much energy… well, ever! But what I truly need is something to wash this dreadful food down with. If someone could get me a measure of wine or ale it would be much appreciated. And let’s not speak of the weather, I beg you. Or last night, for that matter, anything but that. We have a new day ahead and much to speak of and plan.”

They were supposed to meet later in the ship’s war room to discuss their next steps and to keep everyone up to date with the most recent developments. As he approached the door he heard exalted voices from within. The Queen and her Hand were obviously having an argument. 

”Others will notice as I have, don’t you see? This is not Mereen and as true as your feelings might be the people in the North will not take kindly to your… activities!” exclaimed Tyrion with an exasperated voice. 

”They will not accuse us of anything, because there is nothing to accuse of. It is not what you think Tyrion” she stopped when she heard Barristan approaching, then added “we will discuss this later. You speak of what you don’t know.” and welcomed Barristan to the room. 

Once they were all gathered each gave an update of their forces, the prediction of arrival, and told the full story of how they came to fight this war in detail for Barristan’s benefit. This was the first time he was hearing of all the dangers that could befell them up North. It was much worse than he thought but they had no alternative other than fighting. If they lost then all was lost. After the meeting the queen motioned her closest retinue to remain while the captain, officers, the King in the North and his own men left the room. 

Her face was set in a cold and determined expression. “I have asked you to remain because I and the King have come to an important decision. At this very moment the King will be having this same conversation with his own entourage. I beg you will not interrupt me.” She paused, probably measuring her next words. “As you well know, Jon Snow has pledged himself to my cause but I chose to allow him to remain as King in the North for the time being, considering recent events. The alliance has been based only on our word, and true as we might be others might question us. As my Lord Hand as told me many times a treaty should be signed, and it shall. The specific terms of this pact are yet to be negotiated.” She took a deep breath before continuing.” When I came to Westeros Lord Tyrion himself told me that the best way to seal an alliance is with marriage. Very well, it is my wish and the King’s that our treaty will be so as well. I have agreed to wed him as soon as we reach Winterfell. In the North I will become his consort, and he will be mine in the rest of Westeros. This way, the North will remain independent, after a fashion, and it is our hope this might sooth some of the worries by the Northern lords.” 

Lord Tyrion gave a profound sigh “You should have told me!”

”What for, so that you could try and talk me out of it?” said Daenerys with a hint of anger.

”No, that’s not it. I feel like this might be a good solution, politically speaking. Had you _talked to me_ first, I would have told you so. I only worry that someone might notice this is not just a political alliance before you are to wed. The Northerners might think you have seduced their King. You mustn’t forget what happened to his brother, the previous King in the North. You must be careful, for appearances sake it must look as if you are both doing it out of duty. After the deed is done you can appear as much in love as you wish, not before.”

Barristan had the impression there might be feelings between the two sovereigns, but he hadn’t imagine they were this serious. ”But why would anyone think that, Lord Tyrion?” he said. “Up until this moment I had seen no indication of anything stronger than friendship. True, I have been away for long, but I have seen no impropriety from neither of them.” 

Tyrion pressed two fingers to the sides on his nose and let out an almost pained sigh. “Not yet, but that won’t take long, will it Your Grace?” The Queen turned her eyes away from the man even though he continued eyeing her closely. “Earlier today you might have noticed me having some sort of argument with the Queen, Ser Barristan.” He could only nod at that. “Well, wonder no more why that was… I happened to see the King entering the Queen’s quarters late last night. I checked his cabin early in the morning and he still wasn’t there. Am I to believe you spent the night playing Cyvasse? It was me who noticed but it could have been one of the northern guards who came on board with the King. 

Barristan was left speechless at that. _He has the same weakness as his father. Only love was stronger than his honour and duty._ He had denied it to himself, but it was true. The maesters often wondered if there was true attraction between those with Targaryen blood or if the incestuous marriages were only due to tradition. This would give them matter for discussion for a century at least. In this case, the match was far more acceptable than the usual brother to sister. Avunculate marriages were fairly common, especially amongst highborn families and nothing in the laws of Gods or men forbade such unions. That might also ease the matter of succession if it were to be known that Jon was Rhaegar’s son, possibly even trueborn. But then he realized there was another problem.

”Your Grace, I know this is a painful subject to you, but I have to bring it about. You have maintained that you cannot bear children. Who will inherit both crowns when you are gone?” Barristan asked. The Queen had never fallen with child during the time Daario was frequent visit to her chambers. Of course that did not mean much, for all his bragging the sellsword had never mentioned the existence of children now that he thought about it. But if the Queen was truly barren then the Targaryen bloodline would end with the both of them. If Jon were to marry someone else it wouldn’t. Deep inside Barristan had difficulty believing some witch could have held such power over his Queen’s destiny, especially a woman who had made impossible things happen before. 

”You are right, Ser Barristan. The King is aware of the fact and he has assured me that makes no difference to him. He never intended to have children of his own. At this moment his brother Bran is his heir, and Bran’s future children after. The current Lord Stark had a serious accident as a child who left him with physical problems, as Lord Tyrion can attest. It is not clear whether that has affected his ability to father children or not. If that is so, one of his two sisters should be able to have a child to inherit the North and carry the name Stark. As to my own Crown, it is a decision I have yet to make. Perhaps my future nephew or niece may grow to fill the space a child of my own might have held in my heart. We have to survive the upcoming wars first, then we’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Next up is Daenerys and, be warned, there will be smut.


	5. Daenerys II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sailing North, political strategies are discussed and lovers love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope I haven't kept you waiting for long. This chapter is going to move things along faster. It's a long one, hope you have a cup of tea (or something stronger) ready! And it brings along the smut that was promised... OK, just exaggerating here, there is a bit of smut.
> 
> Just wanted to give a shout-out to the lovely people who left messages and kudos and subscribed to this story. I can't thank you enough :)
> 
> OK, here we go. I hope you enjoy it!

# If there was a man

### Daenerys II

Dany woke softly in the middle of the night, afraid of opening her eyes to see everything had been but a dream. _It wasn’t, he’s here with me._ Jon was lying in bed by her side, sleeping quietly, all the fire that burned within him earlier that night seemingly extinguished. His dark hair, now free from the tie he used to tame it, formed a halo around his head. The lover she had often dreamt of had a face, fate had brought him to her for some reason she could not begin to understand. That night they had pledged their love for one another with words and actions and as they lay exhausted, holding each other close, she knew her life was bound to his forever. She was home as long as she was near him. 

Her body held the memory of what happened between them, she could feel the stickiness from his seed between her legs, her lips were still swollen from their ardent kisses, bruised from silencing their moans of pleasure. She looked at her hand, her teeth marked in the soft skin, and smiled to herself. The result from trying to mute her screams as his mouth, his lips, his tongue, caressed her in ways she had never felt before. Just the thought of it was enough to send blood pulsing through her core. She had heard of it before, from her lysene handmaid, but had never experienced it before Jon. As much as their life as a couple had eventually improved, Drogo was not a man to do such a thing. She had mentioned it once to Daario but he had just laughed in her face “Why would you want my tongue when you can have my cock? Mouths are for eunuchs and perverted women to use, not for a real man.” Had he truly believed that? Now she had a far better man by her side, by all accounts. There was no artifice in Jon, no vainglory, or infatuation with himself. He was as selfless, restless, and intense in the bedchamber as he was on the battlefield and his heart was as true as the sea deep.

He must have felt she was observing him because he woke up. Slowly he opened his eyes and gave her a shy smile. Dany caressed his sweet face and smiled back at him as he turned his head to deliver a kiss to the palm of her hand.

”I didn’t mean to wake you, you were sleeping so peacefully!”

”It’s good to wake up to your face” he whispered softly. “I gather you are not sorry for this?”

”Oh, I am sorry” she said, and the smile vanished from his face. “I’m sorry it took us so long to do it” and pressed her forehead to his as he gave a little chuckle.

”You scared me, please don’t do that, my heart won’t take it” depositing an almost chaste kiss on the corner of her lips.

”It was worth it to see you laugh, it’s such a rare event that it should be written on history books. You should do it more often, you have a beautiful smile.” 

”I haven’t had many occasions to do it, is all.” Although he was still smiling, it was sadder than before. There was so much she wanted to know about him, so much she wanted to tell him about her… there was something she needed to ask him before anything else. She knew he did not want to speak of it but she needed to hear it from his lips.

”Jon, I need to ask you something. I never want there to be secrets between us.” He sensed what was coming and lifted himself to sit on the bed. She needed to look him in the eyes to continue so she sat as well, pulling the furs to cover herself. “Tell me what happened.”

”What do you mean” he was running from her already.

”You know what I mean. I trust you and I need you to trust me as well. I need to know.” He drew a deep breath, and his face twisted as if in pain. It took a while before he answered.

”I don’t like talking about it… I only told it once, to my sister. Even she had difficulty believing. Because that’s what happens when people find out, either they think it didn’t happen or that I’m some sort of monster. So I don’t tell, at least no one will think me a liar.” His breathing was shallower and faster now, the veins in his neck pulsing visibly. “When I was Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch I had to make a decision. I could leave the Freefolk to die north of the Wall, at the mercy of the army of the dead, or I could allow them passage to safety, to the Seven Kingdoms. My conscience would not allow me to leave them to die. But some of my sworn brothers were still convinced that the purpose of the Watch is to protect the realm from the wildlings! We swear to be the shield that guards the realms of men, there’s nothing about wildling in our oath, but they didn’t see it that way. They thought me mad…” he swallowed, as if willing his own mouth to continue. She kept her eyes fixed on him but he looked straight in front of him as if in a trance. “They didn’t believe in the threat, they didn’t care if all those people, so many children, died. They thought I was a traitor. One night I was called from my chambers with the news that my uncle Benjen had returned. He had been missing since before I took my vow, by then I almost thought he was dead. But when I got outside they were waiting for me… the mutineers. Each took their turn stabbing me, “For the Watch” they said. Left me to die in the snow.” His eyes had pools of unshed tears.

”And how did you come back?” the question seemed to break his reverie. 

”I only know what I was told. I was found the next morning, some of the men took my body to my chambers. Ser Davos… he asked Stannis’ red priestess if she could do something.” _Melissandre_ , Dany thought. “She had never done it. They washed my body, she cut my hair and burned it, said some prayers, but apparently it didn’t work. They all left and I was still dead. Ser Davos said he was in my old study, trying to make sense of things, when he heard… when he heard me coming back. Dying was the easiest thing I have ever done, to let go of this world and all the pain. To come back was the most painful experience of my life, I was scared senseless. I… I couldn’t understand. I still can’t. They stitched me up as good, or as badly, as they could. Next day I rounded the men who killed me and I hung them, one was only a boy. Then my watch was ended.” he then looked her straight in the eyes and his grey orbs had a wild look upon them before he spoke again, as if preparing himself for the worst. “So, what am I? A liar or a monster?”

She let go of the furs and rose her hands softly to either side of his face and said, slowly and meaningfully “You are my love, Jon. You are my love and you came back because we need you, you came back because **I** needed you.” They kissed each other desperately, as if nothing else mattered in this world. How could those men do such a thing to him? Jon, who was so honourable, so honest, so sweet. How could they be so cruel? She wished she could kill those men all over again, burn them alive for the crime they had committed. Her sweet Jon, how could he still be like this after all that that? Dany just wanted to make him forget all the suffering, all the pain. She let go of his lips and straddled him. She could feel his manhood hard between them asking to be inside her. She kissed the scar above his heart, his precious heart, and then caressed his throbbing cock with her hand, slowly while he took her breasts in his hands, as if feeling their weight. Jon closed his mouth against her nipple, sucking while his hand moved in between her legs to bother her sensitive nub, sending shivers through her body. Finally she rose herself above him and directed his cock to her entrance, slowly lowering herself onto him until he was fully sheathed inside her. The grunt he release seemed to contain pain and pleasure in equal amounts. She pressed her forehead to his while she slowly rolled her hips, their hands held firmly at their sides. They began moving in unison, more quickly and desperately and soon she could feel her pleasure approaching, her insides throbbing from the feeling of him. He held her head and kissed her frantically to hide their moans from the rest of the ship. It amazed her how under his disguise of coldness there was such a burning fire inside of him. Dany could feel he was close too and suddenly he seemed to lose control, a low cry escaping him as his lips left hers. She could feel his cock pulsing inside of her and then the warmth of his seed as he came inside her. _If only his seed would take._ She continued her movements until he was spent, unwilling to let go of him until she felt him soften, then they curled beneath the furs once again, sated and happy. Before sleep took her, she found herself praying to any Gods who would hear her for a miracle.

Dany woke up to the sound of Jon leaving the bed as the sun was beginning to rise. She heard him dress silently and didn’t have the courage to let him know she was awake. She knew he would leave before the others were fully awake. Even though for her it did not matter who noticed they had spent the night together, in fact she wanted to shout it to the world, he did not want a stain on her honour. The thought of it warmed her heart. He approached her carefully and left a soft kiss on her hair before quietly leaving the room. She could not wait to have him again in her arms. But first, they were to announce their decision to their inner circle, they would do it separately and deal with the aftermath as best they could. Their decision was taken and there was nothing that could possibly change their minds. Still, she knew it would not be easy.

***

_It is done,_ Dany thought and she her closest advisors started to leave the room after their meeting. She had not wanted to keep their attachment and their agreement a secret and neither did Jon. After all, they had nothing to be ashamed of. They were both free and they were allies. Their union made sense from a political standpoint and even more from a personal one. They were going to war, there was no time to waste. If they were to perish, at least they would have known happiness before, together.

”Your Grace, can we have a word?” Tyrion was standing in front of her with pleading eyes. He had surprised her. In the morning he tried to confront her with the knowledge that Jon had spent the night in her cabin. She thought he would try to convince her to end the affair and she was angry, her blood boiling even before he managed to explain himself. But when she had communicated hers and Jon’s decision the man had seemed more pained by the fact that he not been consulted.

”Of course. There is much to talk about, I suppose.” it was the least she could do, listen what her Hand had to say.

”I meant it when I said I’m not against the wedding. It was a possibility that had crossed my mind before… I like Jon, he is a good man and let’s face it, the most eligible bachelor in Westeros. I’m happy for the both of you, the Gods know we are short of good news these days. 

”But you have your own ideas how this should come about, don’t you Lord Tyrion? Let this be better than the plans you have presenting me lately. I’m beginning to think you have lost your wits.” she said, accepting the wine he was pouring for them both.

I have spent my entire life being judged by being a dwarf. People always expect the worst from me. It’s the same with Jon, some think that because he is a bastard that makes him devious, less honourable… fools. The North can be especially cruel to bastards. Jon’s upbringing was by all standards privileged, even sheltered I dare say. Ned Stark made sure he was raised and educated the same as his trueborn children, despite his wife’s opinion. But even though they chose him as their King, most of the other Lords will always look on Jon’s actions with prejudice. His control over the North, and yours by extension, needs to be consolidated. Not only that but the Vale as well, who joined Jon’s cause for his sister Sansa, but will just as easily abandon him to his luck. You can’t forget you need to keep their support for the future, against Cersei. Fear of your dragons will only get them so far, they need to trust you two are the best solution for the realm. Which will not be a problem, so long you two are smart about it! 

”And how are we to do that?” asked Dany, curiosity getting the best of her.

”Easy, to those men it must look like Jon is marrying you because it is the best for the North, the best for the Seven Kingdoms, and it will bring peace to Westeros.” said her Hand with a serious face, as if it helped. 

”But that is true, even they can’t deny it.” Now she was again losing her patience.

”Let me explain. Look at all the trouble this country has gone through because of people putting their personal interests in front of the interests of the realm! You want to break the wheel, don’t you? Then you must show them that you and Jon are indeed different from what came before but at the same time give them exactly what they want. Beat them at their own game! Your father was mad, your brother brought this country into war for his love of a Stark. Don’t imagine for a moment they have forgotten about what happened to Lyanna” Dany thought it was best not to tell him that the version she had been always told was that the two of them were in love and had eloped together. Viserys had told her so many lies, maybe that was just another. “Cersei cares for naught but her own power, Robb rose against tyranny but broke his word by following his own heart. So you see, if you want these people to follow you then you must be better than those who came before and that means putting the realm above all else. Everything you and Jon do must be selflessly for the realm, or at least that is what must appear.” Now his face showed a wicked smile, the spark of intelligence that had captivated her back in force.

”You mean we not only have to do what’s right but show it, not only be honourable but appear so.” Dany responded.

”Exactly, my Queen. I have been thinking about this for a while now. I think I have come up with some sort of guidelines, so to speak. You will not like some of them but please, listen. You have gained a reputation to be reckoned with, who knows what rumours my dear sister must be spreading about you. And about Jon, for that matter. But these are just men, after all. Instead of scaring them, charm them, but not enough that their wives might turn against you. Your mother was well loved and many might still remember her. No matter what your father and brother might have done, I have yet to know a single person who did not keep her in good memory.” _My poor mother, she had to pay for it with her own suffering._ “She was duty and honour personified. You have her looks, Your Grace, I suggest you use that in your favour. When you arrive at White Harbour with the King, you should try your best to look like her. Old Lord Wyman must remember her, if I’m not mistaken his wife was briefly your mother’s lady in waiting, along with my own mother. He must have heard stories of Queen Rhaella, might have even met her at some point. Get the old merman on your side and others will follow.”

”What else do you suggest I do? Get on my knees and ask for their mercy?” the memory of her mother’s suffering was doing nothing good for her mood.

” I’m only suggesting you change their opinion of you to what you already are. And you _are_ good, and dutiful, and honourable. But you are also a reigning Queen, and they mustn’t forget it. Coming back to what I was saying. Remind them of your mother, not your father of brother. Show them you are coming to help them, not to conquer them. That you are coming North to help them in this war, and by wedding their King you are writing a wrong that was done in the past by House Targaryen against House Stark. You come to unite dragon blood and wolf blood as one, the blood of old Valyria and the blood of the First Men.” Now Tyrion’s plan was starting to make sense, he knew how to play the game. “They will be hoping for a King with Stark blood to one day sit on the Iron Throne.” _But they won’t get one from me._

”What when I don’t produce the heir they are hoping for?” _Would that I could_ she thought.

”No one must know you might be barren. It was never confirmed anyway.” What more confirmation did the man need? “The only problem will be if they know their King married you knowing you might not be able to bear him heirs. Then they will turn against him, and you. After the war is won, hopefully, and you are sitting on the throne and still no child is born they will see if as unfortunate but if you truly are willing to have a nephew, or niece, of Stark blood as your heir I doubt they will complain for long.”

”I see, they might see an advantage of putting the crown on a true Stark instead of the offspring of a bastard wolf and a dragon.” She concluded bitterly.

”I would not go so far, I have hopes that your reign will be well remembered. Once they know you better, given a chance, they will support you. But I must stress that they must see you both as absolutely duty-bound, they must see that you think of the realm more than your own feelings. After you are wed, you can be as caring in public as you wish. I dare say they might even love you better for it. But before, be the very image of honour and duty, I beg you. Do this and they will follow you and be loyal to you.” he finally stopped to catch his breath and drink some wine. 

”Very well” Dany said after some thought. “I see your point. Speak with Jon about it, and don’t forget to start working on the alliance document with Ser Davos. Come to us when you have a draft.”

”Very well, Your Grace. I’m glad I brought with me a volume from Dragonstone’s library. ‘Chronicle of the Dealings Between Houses Targaryan and Stark’ it is called, I think it will be most useful. I shall take my leave now.” With a nod she sent him away. She could not help but liking him, despite everything. 

She asked the commander of her Queen’s Guard to keep her company on deck after luncheon. The skies were stormy, the colour of her lover’s eyes. She wanted to speak to the old man whom she loved as a grandfather, somewhat seeking his approval. “Ser Barristan, I’m glad you could join me.”

”How could I refuse my Queen’s wishes? Tell me, Your Grace, have you need for my services?” said the kind man.

”You company and your honesty. The news earlier must have come as a surprise?” Dany questioned with pleading eyes.

”Not completely, Your Grace. I had noticed a certain affinity between the two of you, but I thought you were oblivious to each other’s feelings. I’m glad I was wrong, you deserve to happiness and he is a worthy man.” He said smiling.

”So you approve?” relieve filled her heart at his words and his frank smile.

”How could I not? Although I was shocked by Lord Tyrion’s revelation regarding…”

Dany smiled at his embarrassed words. “You must not think ill of the King, when he arrived at my door last night that was not his intention. He came to open his heart, put himself at my mercy expecting I would reject his proposal. I could not let him leave after that, no one knows what the future holds, and I will not waste time. He will be sad to know we have been discovered, however. He was so careful, he thinks of my honour!”

”As any man worth his salt.” Dany knew who he was thinking of, he was right. “I doubt there is a worthier man, Your Grace.”

”You have known him only for a couple of days!” She was surprised at how fast Ser Barristan had taken to him, she was almost jealous.

”It does not take long to know a man’s nature. Besides, he reminds me much of an old friend. But that’s a story for another time.” Now she was curious, but his melancholy voice told her she should not press him further.

”There is something I need your help with.” Dany proceeded to tell him of Tyrion’s ideas of how she should present herself in the North. It was a least an occasion to speak of her lady mother and the old knight seemed to be happy to help her. He told her how she usually wore her hair, what style of clothing she preferred, what colours. Missandei was already helping to prepare some of her clothes for winter, adding a trimming of fur to her cloaks. She would probably need to acquire new clothes up north, at White Harbour or maybe even Winterfell. There was only so much the girl could do, she was no seamstress, but maybe between the two of them they could add some small details relating to Queen Rhaella. It seemed that her mother had preferred simplicity over ostentation. For her hairdo she would only need to simplify the one she already had. It would be a blessing, as it was difficult to maintain her complicated braids without a handmaid to help. The new style would fit with the northern austerity, it seemed her Lord Hand had done her a favour when suggesting her new look. 

***

> _Dany found herself in a comfortable room, with wide windows through which the sun was shining. It was no longer Winter, her arms were bare and it felt pleasantly warm. She saw a man sitting behind a desk. She approached and could see as the man opened a ledger and picked up a quill to write. The man had silver hair and for a moment she thought it was another vision of her brother Rhaegar. She looked at the page which was open and saw it was a family tree, albeit small. The man was adding the name ‘Daenerys’ to the lowest level. Could this man be her father? But he had died before she was born, and was not so young at that time. The man looked straight at her and said “The dragons know, don’t you mother?” She felt her breath catch at that, the man had Jon’s dark grey eyes. _It’s not possible, it can’t be!_ The top of the page read ‘Second Targaryan dynasty - Ice and Fire’ but before she could read anything else he closed the volume and everything vanished into smoke. _
> 
> _Before her appeared the same scene she had witnessed before in the house of the undying. A tall man with indigo eyes and a woman nursing a babe. She knew this man was her brother Rhaegar. Again he said as if looking directly at Dany “His is the song of ice and fire” but the scene suddenly changed. Her brother laid dead on shallow water to her left while on her right the woman was giving birth, screaming in pain, covered in blood and surrounded by blue roses. Dany felt a sharp pain and when her hand reached for her belly she too was big with child and looked in horror as her hands came up to her face covered in blood._

She woke up screaming in Jon’s arms. He had pulled her close and whispered in her ear “It’s alright, just a bad dream. Shh, it’s over.” Her hands went to her belly but there was nothing there, how could there? But her dreams had a habit of coming true. She knew it was foolish to hope, that she was cursed, but she could at least hope. She had prayed to the Gods she did not believe in every night since they had first shared a bed. In this world of impossible things happening this could too. After all, Jon had escaped death. _He called me mother, he had Jon’s eyes._

“I’m alright now. It was just a dream.” Usually it was Jon who would wake up with nightmares and she would be the one holding him until he slept again. 

They had been aboard for a week now and there was not a night they had spent apart. At Tyrion’s suggestion Ser Davos had moved into his quarters, ostensibly because Ser Barristan snored, in truth to make sure that if anyone called during the night he would cover his King’s absence with some excuse. Still, Jon’s sense of honour had him slip to his own cabin in the early hours of each morning. She could not wait until they were wed and would no longer have to hide their true feelings for one another. The seas had been unkind, however. They were already delayed by at least one day. Every day it seemed to get worse. The captain seemed worried the previous day and had been discussing the route with Ser Davos, who was experienced in navigating these waters when he was a smuggler. 

They spent little time sleeping, not only because of the weather. When they were not making love to one another they were talking. They had shared stories of their lives so far, their dearest dreams, their darkest secrets, even their wildest fantasies. The days were spent making plans, discussing the different houses that were now aligned with them and their members. Every day she would go to the deck and watch her dragons fly, no matter how bad the weather. Now and then they even landed on the sea close to the ship, making the waters smoke all around them. They enjoyed doing that especially when Jon was with her, maybe they were jealous of his presence but she thought they were as taken with him as she was. _Ice and fire_ she remembered once more the words that seemed to pursue her.

Jon rose from bed to get her water to calm her nerves. He was a handsome man, his body lean but muscled from years of training. No, not just that. He was striking by nature, there was an elegant quality to his face and his body. Gods, even his manhood was beautifully shaped! When he turned around though, she could see what had been done to him. His mangled torso… he reminded her of some statue of a heathen God taken to Vaes Dothrak and damaged in the process but still stunning in his beauty and power. 

”This water tastes disgusting” she said after drinking, a week in the barrels had removed whatever freshness it once possessed. 

”At least the cook is boiling it before giving it to drink, better taste flat than get us sick.” Ever the practical man. He was eyeing her with the looks she knew so well by now. His eyes were dark as the bottom of the ocean. _Love comes at the eyes._ Her wolf, her wild, hungry wolf. After a moment he was kissing her passionately, his hands traveling all over her body doing unspeakable things he knew would drive her insane with lust. His lips were already leaving a burning trail across her skin, moving down at a painfully slow pace. She knew what he was going to do and she couldn’t wait for him to show her his tongue’s hidden talents. She was grabbing a handful of his raven lock, trying to push his further down faster. Outside, the wind seemed to be picking up again. It was going to be another of those nights. At least with the storm raging they could give voice to their pleasure, joining their howls to the winds. 

”Oh Jon… please… yes, ah! Jon, don’t…” They were startled by a knock on her door, but his time she knew it couldn’t be a pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? A bit of a cliffhanger there. Let me know what you think ;)


	6. Tyrion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King and Queen must take a decision.  
> Tyrion tries to handle things as best he can but even the smartest man in the seven kingdoms is about to be surprised.  
> Vows are exchanged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I wouldn't be writing a Tyrion chapter but I thought this could only work from his point of view. In this story at least Tyrion is very much for Jon and Daenerys, as I mentioned before in the comments. I hope I make it clear why that is in this chapter. A lot of things happen here as I was hoping to move the story along somewhat. I think you can guess from the summary what is going to happen in this chapter! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this. The feedback so far has been incredible, when I set out to write this I wouldn't have imagined so many people would like reading it. This chapter is dedicated to all Jonerys shippers and Barristan fans out there.

# If there was a man

### Tyrion

Tyrion woke up to a rap on his door late in the night. As his mind became clearer, he could hear someone speak.

”Lord Tyrion, please open the door. It’s urgent.” It was Ser Davos and the man sounded worried. He wobbled to the door, hitting a chair on the way there and cursing under his breath that he wasn’t even aloud a quiet night of sleep.

”Ser Davos, what can be so important that it can’t wait until the morrow?” he said opening the door to let the man in. The captain was with him and both had a concerned look on their faces. “Don’t tell me we’re under attack?”

”No, no. At least not from an enemy we can fight. The weather has taken a turn to the worse. Captain?” he motioned to the Bravosi man by his side. Tyrion knew both were no-nonsense men, if they were worried it had to be serious.

”My lord, the most advanced ship has sent message that there’s a storm brewing ahead of us.” Tyrion knew the ships used a fascinating method of signaling with flags and lights that enabled the vessels to exchange information. One day, when all this bother was over, maybe he could dedicate some time to learn it. “I looked with my Myrish eye and could see it clearly. This kind of storm is well known to us. To less experienced eyes it looks just like any ordinary storm, but for those of us who have lived through winter and navigate these seas for long… we can’t go through it. And we have to decide now which way to go and inform the other ships of the new route before it’s too late.”

Ser Davos picked up where the other man had left. “We need to inform them, we need to call a council at once.”

The man was right, it was not something they could decide by themselves and it would need to be fast. “Alright, let me just put on something decent before we can call on them.” He donned a pair of trousers and a doublet as fast as he could to join the others already assembled by the Queen’s door. 

”So, who should knock?” they were all looking at their feet, slightly embarrassed at the sounds that had started coming from beyond the closed door. _At least someone is having fun in this bloody ship._

Ser Davos, ever the practical man, shook his head as if calling them all craven and moved forth to knock. The noise stopped and the Queen’s voice rose from the inside. “Who is it, what is the matter?”

”Your Grace, I’m sorry to disturb your rest but it’s urgent.” Said the Onion Knight with all the dignity he could muster. 

”Can’t it wait till the morning?” answered an exasperated voice.

”Afraid not, we need to change our course. The captain is already waiting for us in the war room, he’ll explain the situation.” Tyrion answered. Noises could be heard from the inside, hushed tones and tumbling feet. In a moment the door opened, the Queen still tying the knot of a dressing gown while in the back the King seemed to be trying to find the opening of his undershirt before slipping it over his head. Tyrion had never seen his chest before that moment. He had heard of it, of course, Daenerys had even told him the rumours about Jon’s death at the hands of the mutineers were true, but he had never imagined the red ruin across his old friend’s chest. Ser Barristan, who had since joined them, seemed to have noticed the same thing, as he gapped with a shocked countenance in the direction of the King in the North.

”Are we being attacked?” asked a worried Queen as she got out of her cabin.

”No, Your Grace.” continued Ser Davos “It’s the weather. We can explain everything better with maps, but we need to take a decision fast otherwise we risk the ships and our own lives.”

There was no time to waste, poorly dressed but decent enough the two young monarchs followed them to the room where the captain and first mate already waited for them.

”As you can clearly see, it is not a regular storm that is coming our way” said the man after explaining what they were facing. Come winter, it sometimes happens that on the junction of the Narrow and the Shivering seas strange storms for with very strong currents and winds. The phenomenon was well known to sailors. In the best hypothesis, the ships are taken off course, lucky if they manage to reach Bravos safely and wait out until the seas are safe again. Other times, there is little left of the ships than a few planks of driftwood that come ashore after weeks or even months. The only way to escape would be to circle the storm to the east or to take refuge in one of the Vale’s ports to the west. _This is an enemy we cannot beat._

”And what do you suggest we do, you are the captain” Daenerys asked.

”Your Grace, if we circle the storm no one can tell how far we will end up. It might take a long time to return to course. I would suggest we sail to the Fingers and wait the storm out, Your Grace.” 

Jon let out a deep sigh, Tyrion knew all too well what he was thinking and voiced his concern to the others. “Littlefinger’s backyard.”

”Aye” said the King “Littlefinger.” the word leaving his lips with distaste.

”I thought you were allies now?” said Ser Barristan. Did the man not remember the worthless cunt the former master of coin could be?

”Ser Barristan, you should know by now that Lord Baelish’s only ally is himself.” Tyrion offered. He could see the King nodding in agreement by his side.

”The moment we step foot in the Fingers he will be informed, and who knows where and how this information will be used. I’d rather not take a chance unless we have no other choice.” The grim tone of his voice left little to everyone’s imagination about what the King in the North would do to the man if given a chance.

Jon had told him of how the man had taken his sister from the capital after Joffrey’s death but also how she ended up wedded to Ramsey Snow, suffering beyond imagination at his hands. Littlefinger might have come to their aid later on, but that had costs. 

”If I may suggest an alternative, Your Graces?” Ser Davos said approaching the map, at a nod he continued. “As you know, I was a smuggler for most of my life. I don’t like to brag, but I like to think I was a good one! Few know this coast better than me and I had to face this same situation many times before. There is a small island here” he was pointing at a seemingly irrelevant point on the map near (...) “Nobody really cares for it because there is no port to speak of and the only thing anyone will find there is an old septry dedicated to the Smith, kept by a few brown brothers who live in contemplation. They are happy to shelter anyone who comes their way in exchange for some food, seeds, or even news from the outside world. It’s not a popular stopover because there are no women and little drink to be had, but it’s the place to look for when you need safety from the prying eyes that always wait in the regular ports. I have been there more times than I can count, they know me well. We can sail there and stay for a couple of days, the cove is well sheltered and there’s space for several ships. Then we can decide what to do.” He looked at the King and Queen with anticipation.

”This can work, just say the word so that the others can be warned.” said the captain.

The two rulers looked at each other and nodded and the King spoke “Do it.” Immediately orders were shouted and the boat was in a frenzy of activity. The first mate sent signals to the other boats to change their course and follow them. Sails were drawn and their positions changed. In a few minutes their direction had unmistakably changed. They were on their way. Another delay in an already troublesome voyage. The weather had plagued them since they left Dragonstone and they spent their days discussing possible scenarios and the newly formed alliance with the North. Tyrion and Ser Davos had managed to draft an agreement the two monarchs already they their approval to. It had been an inspired move, to bring the old tome relating the dealings of the Starks and Targaryens with him. Not only it had provided some entertainment in the long, boring days, as it had revealed itself extremely useful. It appeared that all they needed was to extend the ancient Pact of Ice and Fire. The North would again rally to the cause of a Targaryen heiress and finally the Starks would get the Targaryen bride they had been promised the first time around. A marriage could be what was needed to heal the wounds from the past. 

As much as love could blind judgement it also gave people reason to fight! That is why it’s easier to fight for people than for causes. Tyrion knew fully well the most powerful motivator is love, not duty. For your family, for your lover, for your friends, for your country, but always love. People did the most incredible and the most horrible things for it. It had not been out of duty that Jon Snow had taken back Winterfell. It had not been for duty that Daenerys had walked into her husband’s funeral pyre only to come out unburned and with three newly hatched dragons. It would not be out of duty that the two of them could hope to win the wars to come. It would be out of love. And if it depended on Tyrion, they would not be wasting time having others questioning their relationship instead of preparing for their real fight. Their love gave Tyrion hope at that moment, and hope might be exactly what everyone needed right now.

Mid-morning they arrived, from afar the island seemed deserted. Tyrion, Ser Barristan, and Ser Davos were to board a small skiff with a couple of guards and make sure it was safe for them to stay. After they set foot, Ser Davos immediately led them to a shabby looking building.

”Anybody home?” Ser Davos called, clapping his hands. An old man with a kind smile came out, drying his hands on a rag. “Blessings, brother Marius.”

“May the Seven bless you” the man said, looking warily at Davos, then opening a smile. “My, my. If it isn’t a face I haven’t seen in years? The man from Flea Bottom, sorry I forgot your name.

”Davos, aye I haven’t been here in may years. Left the smuggling life, you see?

”And what brings you to this humble house?” his eyes were fixed on Tyrion and Ser Barristan.

”My companions and I are in need of your hospitality, if you can offer it. We will be most generous if you’ll allow us to stay for a few days, until the weather improves and we can move forth.” The old man nodded in agreement. “These are Lord Tyrion Lannister and Ser Barristan Selmy.” The man’s eyes grew big at the mention of the bold knight.

”Ser Barristan the Bold! I saw you joust many times before I became a brown brother and retired from the outside world. If it an honour to meet you.” 

”The honour is mine, Ser Davos has spoken highly of your Septry.”

” _Ser_ Davos? You have indeed risen in life! Come inside and have some wine while you tell me how come a former smuggler-turned-knight from Flea Bottom, a Knight in the King’s Guard, and a Lannister turn up in a forgotten island looking for shelter.” _Finally!_

The room they entered must have been the dining hall. There was no one inside, but the place smelled of food and drink. Images of the Seven were painted onto the windows, all except the Smith who had a statue for himself at the end of the room. The place was old but tidy and well-kept, obviously the dilapidated state of the exterior did not carry inside. The wine was decent enough, Tyrion guessed the business of offering shelter to smugglers and watching over their souls did have its benefits. Ser Davos explained briefly their situation, without giving much detail. The man, whom they now knew was the Elder of the Septry, listened attentively to their tale, asking few questions here and there.

”As you know, we have no space to house so many. But I can assure that the ships and the crew will be safe in the cove, at least we never had any problems that I know of. If you give me your word that no harm will come to us, and that you will leave us enough to last us through winter then we will be glad to receive some of you. I will need to speak to my brothers, but it should not be any trouble. It is our calling to protect those who risk their lives at sea. I can’t say I know of any time this Septry received a woman, one who wasn’t a Septa that is, but I will make an exception for your Queen, since you vouch for her. We take no sides, but if our help is asked for we will provide it within our means.” The man finally said. 

”The King and Queen will not forget the assistance you’ve given them in their hour of need, you can rest assured.” Tyrion told the man.

The King and Queen, with their respective entourages, were to come to land, along with some guards. They brought some victuals with them to help feed them during their stay and also to pay the brothers for their trouble. The crews remained in their ships, except for the men who had fallen ill during the trip, which had been a few. The way the storm was evolving it seemed like they would be staying for at least three days, per Ser Davos’ calculations. The Septry was only composed by five brothers, including the Elder they had met before. Isolated from the world except for the news their smuggler friends brought went they stopped by, they seemed to show no interest in the affairs of the realm. Their maintenance came from the sea, the small patches of land they cultivated, a small orchard, and a flock of sheep. And, of course, the gifts brought by their “guests”. They prayed, and worked, and it seemed to Tyrion for the first time that there was some sort of good to be had from the Faith after all. It wasn’t like him to think of the Gods, he wasn’t even sure if he believed any of that thought there was so much strangeness in the world that that it wouldn’t surprise him it was all true. 

Being in the Sept had brought to his mind an important thing he had been neglecting. The ruler of the Seven Kingdoms was usually the so-called Protector of the Faith, but neither Daenerys nor Jon believed in the Seven. Tyrion doubted many of the previous rulers did either, but he knew full well how important appearances were. And that’s when it all came tumbling into his mind. They would have to be wed in the light of the Seven for the realm to consider them husband and wife and the North, under rare exceptions, kept the Old Gods. Surely Jon would like to be wed before the Heart Tree in the Godswood in Winterfell and Daenerys would certainly like to indulge him. More and more problems for him to solve, why did he ever leave Mereen? The Sons of the Harpy appeared much easier to manoeuvre in hindsight. 

After they settled in the bare cells the brothers had quickly prepared for them he set out to speak to the King. Jon was sitting on a bench honing his Valyrian steel sword. “Your Grace, may we have a word?”

”Sure, take a seat. You know you can still call me Jon, at least when it’s just the two of us.” He seemed to be in a good mood, but surely a few days away from the Queen’s bed would quickly change his newly found cheerful disposition. _Unless…_

”I brought us some wine. “Tyrion sat down next to him and filled two cups for them. “I remember your Lord father built a small Sept for Lady Catelyn in Winterfell. I was wondering if it is still standing.”

”It was destroyed by the fire when the Greyjoys took the keep. The Septon died as well. We never rebuilt it as few keep the Seven in the North. Why do you ask?”

”You would like to wed before the Heart Tree, I suppose?” Jon nodded in agreement. “The Queen herself is a non-believer, for her this is quite indifferent. But as I’ve been telling you appearances count for a lot. I know you don’t like to hear it, but it’s true and I wouldn’t be good at my job if I didn’t advise you on such matters.

”I know you mean well, but this sort of game is not one I like to play, and neither does Daenerys. What would you have us do this time?” There was the angry brooding coming to surface once again. 

”You will have to wed before the Seven for the rest of the Seven Kingdoms to accept your marriage as valid. I’m not saying you can’t wed before the Old Gods, I’m just saying you must also do it before the new.” Tyrion could see in Jon’s face he understood his point. 

”Well, then we’ll have to wed in White Harbour. I don’t know of any other functioning Sept in the North.” he said with a frown. He was right, of course, but Tyrion had just thought of another possibility which was even better.

”What about if you two arrived at the northern shores already wedded and bedded?” Asked Tyrion raising his eyebrows sharply. “I’m sure one of these good brothers would be happy to wed the future King and Queen of Westeros in their humble Sept!” He could see Jon giving him a shocked look. “You wouldn’t have to sleep apart to keep appearances once you reach north” _No one to question your intimate manner_ he thought to himself “and no one could try to stop the wedding either, as it would be consummated long before. You can have a northern ceremony in the Godswood afterwards. What do you think?”

”I’ll wed her before any Gods, old or new, it doesn’t matter.” Tyrion had to smile at the sudden display of feeling from the usually taciturn Jon Snow. He had found something worth fighting for, whatever doubts he had about their relationship at the beginning. If love could be the death of duty, it could also be a damn good reason to keep on fighting when all hope is lost. It is far easier to fight for the people we love than for a cause, no matter how good it might seem.

”Then I suggest you go ask her.” Tyrion reached to give Jon’s hand a good squeeze before the young man left. _One less thing to worry about, I hope._

The Queen gave her agreement and Ser Davos set about to prepare everything. The Elder brother had shown some reticence in doing a wedding without the customary waiting time but his old acquaintance assured the man that they were both unwedded and had hinted at some urgency in conducting the ceremony. Besides, they would be well rewarded in return. In the end it was decided the wedding would take place that same evening. 

Tyrion was overseeing the transfer of supplies and personal belongings when he heard the dragons. They had been away, probably hunting, and it was the first time they showed up that day. It caused quite a commotion amongst the locals who swarmed outside to view the wondrous beasts gliding over their heads. Tyrion looked down to the beach and saw they were going to land there.

”I will never get used to seeing them…” Ser Barristan had just joined him to see the spectacle. 

”So do I, who would have thought that after so many years dragons are again roaming the skies above Westeros. These are indeed strange times we live in.” replied Tyrion. “It’s a tragedy what happened to Viseryon, the Queen hasn’t fully recovered from it.”

”And how could she? They are like children to her, can a mother ever recover from the death of a child?” said the old knight sadly. 

Just then they saw the Queen approaching the two dragons… and she wasn’t alone. Jon Snow was approaching behind her. “Is the man completely mad? What is he doing approaching the dragons like that?” Cried Tyrion. “He’s going to get himself killed, again! And this time there will be no coming back.” But then something incredible happened, Drogon approached Jon as if asking to be petted and he did. “Ser Barristan, am I going mad or is Jon scratching Drogon’s muzzle as if he were a cat?” he looked at his companion but the man seemed to have gone mute with shock. _I’m not yet going mad, then._ As if jealous, Rhaegal approached sneakily and started nuzzling Jon, who readily got on to pet him as well. Drogon did not seem to mind, as his mother was now caressing him, while smiling in Jon’s direction. “This doesn’t make any sense! How in the seven hells did he manage to do this? I only managed to briefly get close to Rhaegal and Viseryon once, when I went to unshackle them. I lived to tell the tale because I was extremely careful, used every trick I ever read. … and besides, I have some Targaryen blood from my grandmother’s side so… that’s it, Jon must have a drop of dragon blood as well!”

”More than a drop, I would say.” Ser Barristan’s voice was almost a whisper but the tone in which he said it was undeniable, the man knew something.

”What do you mean?” questioned Tyrion, looking him straight in the eye. 

”I might as well tell someone, maybe you’ll be able to help me make sense of it. Let’s find somewhere quiet.”

”It’s impossible.” Tyrion said just as the man finished telling him his suspicions. And still, it did make some sense. Could it be that Ned Stark pulled the greatest deception in history, hiding the Targaryen heir in plain sight? With a sigh he closed his eyes and let his head fall on his hands. “Maybe I’m going mad but I believe you.” He said finally.

”I’m glad it makes sense, I was wondering if this was all product of my imagination. You do understand it creates problems though?”

”It solves the succession problem and creates another immediately. Daenerys would not be the last of her family, but if it is true that she is barren, by marrying her nephew, she invalidates any possible continuation of the Targaryen line. I should have insisted that she would be examined by a maester. I still find it hard to believe that some witch could have such power.”

”So do I. Did Daario ever mentioned to you any children he might have had?”

”No, but that doesn’t mean anything. I have spent my entire life whoring and I have no bastards, at least that I know of. I have often wondered if the witch wasn’t bluffing when she said it, and in the vulnerable state of mind the Queen was at the time, she took it to heart. You know how it is! Prophecies and curses have a tendency to self-fulfil themselves.”

”Well, true or not, they are to be wed before the day is over. And without proof, there is nothing we can do.”

”I’m only afraid what will happen if they do find out this is true.” Said Tyrion with a sigh.

”Daenerys always dreamt of having a family. If she finds out she won’t turn against Jon, you can be sure.” 

”Ser Barristan, it’s not Daenerys’ reaction I’m afraid of, it’s Jon’s.” answered Tyrion earnestly. “You haven’t known him as long as I have. There’s always been an edge to him, a sort of quiet fury boiling beneath the surface. Maybe it’s always been the dragon in him and we haven’t seen it.”

”You think he might hurt her?” said Ser Barristan with a worried voice. 

”Of course not! Jon would never hurt those he cares about, there is no question about it.” The old man breathed a sigh of relief. Probably the man had been thinking of the mad king and what his sister wife suffered her entire life. “I’m worried it might unhinge him, yes, but not in that way. He has a certain knack for self-destruction. We don’t have the time to deal with his existential crisis in the middle of a fucking war. By the way, how in the seven hells did you find out?”

”The moment I set eyes on him I knew, Tyrion. I admit he does look a lot like Ned, but take away the obvious Stark features and there’s a lot of Rhaegar in him. Did you get to meet the Prince?” Tyrion hadn’t, he wasn’t exactly presented into society by his father. “He had this wild hair, Jon’s is dark but I bet if he let it lose it would look the same. “Tyrion could only smile at that, thinking of the young Jon he had met long ago. “They move the same way, fight with the same deadly grace, their tone of voice is very similar, his brow, the turn of his nose, the full lips. There wasn’t a maid in court who wasn’t in love with him, and some men as well. But there was a sadness to Rhaegar… I see the same in Jon. He was taller though. I suppose Jon takes after his mother in that as well, she was a tiny thing but wild…” Ser Barristan seemed lost in reverie for a moment. “She was something else, Tyrion.”

 _I bet she was, to lead to a war._ “The day you arrived at Dragonstone, you recognized him, didn’t you? That’s why you collapsed in the courtyard.” The man nodded in agreement. “Well, it’s getting late, there’s no use in fretting over this now. Let’s get them wedded and bedded. And if someone finds out, we’ll deal with it then, for now it’s better to keep this between us. 

The Sept was illuminated by torches and oil lamps when Tyrion made his way in. The Queen was getting ready, aided by Missandei. He had earlier instructed Jon in ways of the ceremony. It had been difficult to face him with the knowledge he now held, to know that this young man could be the heir of two of the most powerful houses in history. He would be heartbroken if he ever found out the man he worshiped above all, the man who he always thought as his father, was not the man who sired him. Hopefully it would never come to that, at least for now it was better that Jon remained ignorant of his parentage. Tyrion tried to wipe the thought from him mind as he saw the man himself entering the sept along with Ser Davos who carried a folded cloak in his arms. 

”Ready, Your Grace?”

”As ready as I’ll ever be, I just want to get this over with.”

”Easy now, it won’t take long. You are wedding the most beautiful woman in the world, you should be ecstatic!” Chuckled Tyrion. 

”It’s only proper that a man is nervous at his own wedding, don’t you think Lord Tyrion?” said Ser Davos. 

”Yes, but that usually happens because the bride and groom are ill acquainted, or the marriage was arranged,” Tyrion lowered his voice “or because of the bedding afterwards. I’m sure that is _not_ what is leaving you nervous.”

”No, it isn’t. I’m still afraid she’s going to realize what a mistake she’s making and won’t do it.” 

”I’m not usually a betting man, but I would wager my own head that she won’t change her mind.”

Everyone was assembled in the sept, Missandei entered and sat in front indicating the bride was ready and they could start. The Queen looked beautiful, wearing one of her white gowns and a black and red cloak over it. Ser Barristan, wearing his shining army, was the one to give her away. The two men shared a significant nodded as they passed each other. Tyrion had never seen Jon smile like he did at the moment he took her hand in his. The ceremony went on without incident, bride and groom exchanged vows, Ser Barristan took her maiden cloak and Jon placed his heavy northern cloak over her shoulders.

”One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” The brother pronounced the words that made them husband and wife. _It is done, may the Gods have mercy on them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's done. They are married!!! I wanted to get this over with and have them arriving at White Harbour as husband and wife since when I first started thinking of this story. Next chapter we travel North and leave the travelers behind. In fact, next chapter was the first I started writing back in December but then realized I needed to fill the blanks first. I'm not sure if I'll keep up the pace of one chapter per week though. I have a though week ahead of me at work so it might take a little longer.
> 
> Looking forward to your comments! Enjoy :)


	7. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The North receives news.  
> Sansa plans ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I thought this chapter would be delayed due to work but it wasn't. Though the weak was hectic, it went tremendously well and got me inspired to get this chapter done. 
> 
> As usual, thanks a bunch for all the comments and kudos. Your support means the world to me. 
> 
> This week we travel North.

# If there was a man

### Sansa

 _So Littlefinger was right, at least in that._ Sansa was trying to process the latest Bran had conveyed. Jon and the dragon queen were wedded. This could work for or against them, depending on how she played this card. 

”Tell me Bran, does she treat him right? I swear if she hurts him…” grumbled Arya.

”She loves him, Arya. She would never hurt him.” Bran guaranteed, but Sansa was still worried. She knew better now than to judge a child by the mistakes of their parents, but she could not help thinking their grandfather and uncle were horribly killed by her brother’s late goodfather.

”I heard plenty of tales about her while I was in Braavos.” Continued Arya. “Most of the rich merchants thought she was blood thirsty and mad, but to the smallfolk and to the former slaves she had freed she was a hero. They also said she was the most beautiful woman in the world.”

”How did this happen?” she finally asked, which got a piercing look from Arya. “I’m not asking because he’s Jon, you silly. I completely understand any woman falling for him. I’m asking because there was no indication from his last letter.”

”They weren’t together when he wrote you last. But it is good, it is as it was always meant to be.” Bran told them in his monotone, eerie tone.

”What do you mean, as it was always meant to be?” questioned Arya.

”Whatever roads their lives might take, they were supposed to be together. If not, we would all be doomed. It has been written since before they were even born, Arya.” He turned away from them to look at the fire, as if they were not even there. 

Sansa needed to know more, she needed to be prepared for when she would divulge the information. She knelt before him and took his face between her hands to force him to look at her. “Bran, I need more details. Maester Wolkan told me some of the lords lodging with us received scrolls with the Lannister lion this morning. It must be Cersei trying to manipulate them. I need to know what is happening so I can deal with it.”

”Cersei is asking them to join her, saying Jon gave up the North. They will be calling you to ask for explanations” he said after a few minutes of silence. “Jon sent a raven after his wedding, it should arrive tomorrow. I will tell you what you need to know.”

She thought back to Bran’s words as she made her way to the Great Hall with her siblings later that day. Several lords of the North and the Vale were residing at Winterfell, waiting on the war to come. More would be arriving soon. Winterfell and Winter Town normally had only a small population but when Winter came that always changed. When the cold winds blew this was the only place that seemed to remain warm and it had been built from the start to serve as refuge for the entire Northern population. Like every day, the lords dined with the Starks in the Great Hall, that day there was an unusual silence amongst them. _The calm before the storm_ , Sansa thought. She wondered who would be the first to confront her with the news. She was ready, thought. She had learned her lesson well, and she knew exactly what to tell them and how to bring them again to her side. Her older brother may be reckless and impulsive, but this time he had done right. When he went south she had been against it. She thought he would never come back, just like their father. She thought the dragon queen would kill him, or at least imprison him. She was wrong, he was coming back with a wife, and army, and dragons. She had to admit she had been wrong this time, and she was glad. She had learnt to appreciate her brother in a way she could never have guess as a child and she missed him terribly. 

The meal was humble, as usual. She was being careful that they had enough food for the winter. The glasshouses had been repaired after they had taken back the keep but still not producing at full capacity. As the plates were being taken by the servants Lord Glover stood and, clearing his throat, turned to the dais holding a scroll in his hand. _There we go._

”My lord, my ladies. I have received a troubling scroll from King’s Landing this morning. I know others here have as well. Cersei writes to say your brother has bent the knee to the dragon queen. Is this true?”

Sansa rose from her seat calmly and extended her hand to him. “Can I read with my own eyes the lies Cersei is spreading about our King, Lord Glover?” He seemed taken aback by her forwardness and gave her the scroll. 

She lifted her eyebrow so that everyone could see and passed the missive to Arya. Usurper, dog, bastard, and whore, were some of the words contained in only a few lines. 

”And do you believe such words? Haven’t you learnt by now that we cannot trust her? She, who was responsible for my father’s death, and my mother’s, and Robb's. She, who birthed three bastards from her own brother and passed them off as Robert’s trueborn children. She, who blew up the Sept of Baelor with hundreds inside?”

”We only wish to know if there is any truth to these claims. You told us yourself the dragon queen is traveling north with her army and her dragons to help with the war. Why would she do it without anything to gain in return? Is it not a valid question?” asked him, to agreeing sounds from the rest of the assembly.

”Indeed it is. You wish to know if my brother bent the knee, if he is no longer our King. Is that right?” The audience agreed. “Very well, it appears that I am put in a difficult position. I will be forced to divulge information that was thus far only known to those closer to the King and the Queen. Yes, my brother is still King in the North, and will remain so, Gods will it, for a long time. Do you know what Cersei offered him when they were negotiating the truce in King’s Landing? I’m sure you don’t. Cersei would make him Warden of the North if he supported her against Daenerys Targaryen for the throne. My brother answered that he could not serve two queens and that he had pledged his support for the Targaryen side. That part is true, I suppose, although not the way Cersei thinks it is. My brother, our King, would never support Cersei, especially against his own future wife’s claim.” She let her words hang in the air for a few seconds before she continued. The silence was deafening, they were all too shocked to whisper. “Queen Daenerys Targaryen in fact pledged her support for the North long before any talks of marriage were on the table. She believes in the threat we face from beyond the Wall and is willing to put on hold her war against Cersei to help the realm fight an even bigger war. In return, the North accepts her claim to the Iron Throne. My Lords, my Ladies, this is merely a continuation of an alliance that was signed long ago, the so called Pact of Ice and Fire. My ancestor Lord Cregan Stark signed it and supported the claim of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen to the throne. At the time, it was promised that a royal princess would marry into house Stark but that never came to be. Now, house Stark again supports the claim of a Targaryen Queen and Daenerys has offered herself to fulfil the promise. Many men have coveted her hand, you can rest assured. You may have even heard tales of her beauty, but she has chosen my brother for her husband and to rule beside her. In fact, they are already wedded and bedded by now.” The hall had now erupted in a thousand voices. She couldn’t understand whether her discourse had had the right effect or not.

”Does that mean King Jon will rule the Seven Kingdoms” said Lord Manderly’s thunderous voice.

”The King will continue to rule the North, the Queen, if all goes well, will rule the other Kingdoms. The North will remain independent, until the time comes that a child of theirs comes to inherit both crowns.” Sansa waited for the man’s reaction with anticipation, knowing his opinion could sway others.

”Aye, that’s good” the huge man finally said. “Long live the King and Queen!” He raised a horn of ale and hauled himself up from the bench. “Long be their reign, many be their children, long be their summers! To the White Wolf and the Dragon Queen” and the rest of the room joined him.

Sansa looked at her sister, who was smiling widely at her. It had worked for now, she only hoped the Gods would listen to their words. She grabbed her own horn and toasted her sister’s before both took a lengthy draught. Then they both joined the chorus and loud as they could. 

_There’s still so much to be prepared,_ thought Sansa while reading for the tenth time the scroll her brother had sent announcing his wedding. It had arrived the previous morning, just like Bran said it would. Although the missive was short and did not give much detail, she could sense in the way it was written that Jon had been happy. There was a lightness in the words that was rare in him. He deserved some happiness, after all that had happened. Lord Manderly had already returned to White Harbour as he wanted to be there when the King and Queen disembarked. She and Arya had sent letters for their brother and his new wife. Arya wanted to go as well but Sansa managed to persuade her that she shouldn’t leave Winterfell. In truth, if Sansa had her way none of them would ever leave Winterfell again. That’s how everything had started going wrong for them, the moment they left. She had now left the Lord’s chambers, which she had been occupying. It was only fair that her brother and his queen had spacious quarters for themselves. She assumed they would be sharing a room. Sansa had stopped believing in true love long ago, but if Bran told them was true then Jon and Daenerys had made a match out of affection as much as politics. Their new room was being fitted with fresh linens and drapes. The dresser was aired and perfumed for their clothes and the dressing table was empty save for an old mirror. Her brother had said they would wed before the Old Gods when they arrived at Winterfell. Although he had not asked it of her, she was embroidering a cloak for the Queen to wear for the occasion. It was only one of the gifts she was preparing, they needed to please their new Queen. Besides, they would be sisters. Her brother had only asked for two things in his letter. One was a handmaiden for his queen. Sansa had already talked to a girl who could do the job. She was smart but did not enjoy gossip, capable with the clothes and always wore her hair neat, she hoped the Queen would like the girl. The other thing was more personal. Jon wanted to gift his wife a family jewel and asked Sansa and Arya if they wouldn’t mind parting with one of their grandmother’s pieces. Northern houses did not wear luxurious finery of the kind the southron did, their style much more subdued, but the Starks had some precious heirlooms. Luckily, the chest containing them had been well hidden and hadn’t been found by Ironborn or by the Boltons. When they had retaken Winterfell Sansa had found it in the same place her lady mother had shown her years before. She was cleaning up the pieces when Arya entered with Bran, they would have to choose together.

”I don’t know why you want us here, Sansa. It’s not like I would ever want any of that for myself and nor does Bran.” Arya sat on the bed complaining.

”These are ours, so it must be our choice. Besides I want your opinion on what she might like.” Sansa argued.

”Well, none of us knows her, so I can’t see how we can be of any help.”

Bran surprised them by bending over the jewels as if looking for something in particular. “She is quite beautiful, but doesn’t wear much jewellery” he said. It still scared her how her baby brother could see things beyond their reach. In truth, he was the only one who already knew Jon’s wife. “Something simple would fit her well.” 

”She has silver hair, does she not?” Bran nodded. “I think this would look well on her then, silver and jet.” She held in her hand a set of hair combs decorated with tiny silver direwolves set on the black stone. 

Bran gave her a weak smile, then said “It’s not jet, Sansa. It’s obsidian, dragonglass! Yes, quite appropriate.”

”Look, it’s got matching earrings!” exclaimed Arya.

Sansa held the different pieces in her hands, she knew they would look perfect. “It is decided, then. I’ll have them put in a box. Let’s hope she likes them.”

”She will Sansa.” Bran said, his fingers lightly brushing the jewels. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed this! Now that I set up the North we can go back to the (love) boat next chapter.


	8. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon dreams, Jon loves, Jon questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter. I was sick and then had to catch up on work. Spending the entire day writing at the computer at work didn't leave much energy for writing in the evening as well. 
> 
> This is a mixed bag of a chapter. There's smut and there's serious talk with none other than Ser Barristan the Bold!

# If There Was a Man

### Jon II

The air smelled of snow, and blood, and death. He was roaming the woods in search of hunt but even the rabbits seemed to have gone into hiding. He could feel the scent of his smaller cousins on the sentinel trees and realized he longed for the companionship of his own kind. Three brothers and two sisters had he had once, but now only one was left and so far he had lost her scent. He looked at the moon but even she looked shy tonight, afraid of the cold perhaps. But he was warm, and he was alive and he threw his head back, closed his eyes and howled to the moon. When he opened his eyes again he was looking down from far, far above. He was scared, was he falling? No, he was flying. His breath came faster and faster and there was fire burning his insides…

”Jon, Jon!” Soft hands caressed his face, he wasn’t falling any more. “Jon, what’s wrong?” Daenerys was beside him in bed holding his face with her hands. She looked alarmed.

”It’s nothing, a dream is all.” Jon tried to brush it away but her brow remained knitted in worry.

”You started screaming… was it the crypts again?” Jon had told her of his recurrent nightmares, which were getting more intense now, as if something was pulling him the closer they got to Winterfell. 

”No, it was just a wolf dream. Sorry if I scared you.” He had said it before he could stop himself. _Only this time I wasn’t a wolf._ He wondered if he had warged a bird. She raised her eyebrows but no words came out of her mouth. She almost looked funny, naked as her nameday, clueless look on her face, dishevelled hair. His wife. _I shall take no wife_ , he had sworn in another life. ”It just happens, it’s not something I can control.”

”What do you mean by wolf dream? Were you dreaming of wolves? I never thought you would be scared of them!” 

”A wolf dream is not the same as dreaming of wolves. It’s… dreaming you’re a wolf… it’s difficult to explain.” She kept looking at him expectantly and he sighed deeply. “Sometimes, when I fall asleep, it’s as if I slip out of my skin and wake up in Ghost. And then I’m him until I wake up, I hunt and run.” _And mate, and kill_ , but he wasn’t telling his wife that. “I used to fight it... I hadn’t had one for a while, I suppose getting closer to home is causing it.” _I missed it._

”I never heard about that. I have dragon dreams since I was a child, but that’s not the same. I dream of dragons or things related to dragons, or about my life…” Jon had the impression she was also keeping something from him. He wouldn’t push it, she was in her right. Some things are better kept for oneself. He was just relieved she didn’t seem to mind the fact that he was a warg. “Why did you scream?”

”I don’t know what happened, I suddenly felt like I was flying or falling, but I wasn’t in Ghost anymore. But let’s not talk about it anymore.” He pushed the furs up to her neck and gave her a peck in the lips before rising from the bed. “Try to get back to sleep, I’m going to get some air.”

Jon looked out the window, the night was surprisingly mild after the heavy storms that had plagued their trip so far. They were so close by now, after nigh on three weeks of a trip that should have lasted them less than two. The air was stuffy in the room, a smell of sweat, and sex, and damp. The last they had truly bathed had been on the morning they had left the septry after their wedding, as clean water was precious on a ship. What he wouldn’t give to go for a swim in the waters of Dragonstone or the pools in Winterfell’s Godswood. Right now he needed to feel the cold, needed to feel the winds of the North bathe his skin and clear his head, so he opened the window. Small flakes of snow started entering their room, landing lightly on his bare skin, leaving behind a trail of water droplets as they melted against the heat of his body. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He cherished and feared the cold in equal amounts, _The cold brings the Others._ Wasn’t that what Old Nan used to say? He couldn’t remember anymore, but it was true. And soon they would have to make land and face reality.

He heard noise coming from behind him and when he looked Daenerys had gotten up from the bed and was dressing in his rough linen shirt. He closed the window, _enough cold_ , but stayed where he was looking out the window. She approached him and wrapped her arms around his chest, while he covered her hands with his own. It was good to feel her warm body near him, to feel her scent and caress her hair. He lifted his arm and passed it around her shoulders so she could nestled by his side, the both of them looking out into the sea while holding tight to one another. The clouds had briefly parted and a waxing moon was making an appearance in the sky.

”How time passes, the moon was full when we left Dragonstone” Jon told her, pressing a kiss on top of her head.

”Truly? I lost track.” she said with an absent voice. “Aren’t you cold?”

”How can I, with a dragon by my side.” Jon could feel her smiling against his chest. In truth this was normal cold to him, it didn’t much affect him anymore. He felt her fingers tightening their hold on his back and her mouth placing kisses across his chest. She raised her eyes to his and he didn’t need to ask what she was thinking nor did he need any further invitation. Jon kissed her with passion as if a vortex as pushing them further and further together. His hands had travelled down to her thighs, lifting her from the ground to sit on the window sill before lifting and pulling off the shirt she had been wearing, leaving her bare to him. He took a step back, pulling away from her embrace in order to look at her from further away. Her chest was heaving heavily with anticipation, moving her breasts up and down. Dany’s hands clasped the edge supporting her, legs pressed tightly against one another, and biting her lower lip wantonly. She was provoking him and she was being successful. His manhood was as hard as the ship’s bow, setting his inevitable course towards her. 

Jon looked her up and down, appreciating her form. Suddenly she shivered and opened her legs slightly “I’m getting cold Jon, are you only going to appreciate the view or are you coming to set me on fire?” 

”Ah, woman! I’ll never get enough of this view.” They smiled at one another and he started towards her only to stop and retreat again. “Wider…” she gave him a quizzical look but did as he asked. He lowered his eyes briefly before again locking eyes with her and adding “Wider!” He wanted to take a good look at her before anything else. Her breathing deepened as she pushed her knees further apart, leaning slightly back to give him a full view. She was glistening wet in the candle light, still displaying remnants of their earlier love-making but visibly aroused already. He couldn’t wait to become a part of her body again but he was in no hurry.

”What do you see, husband?”

”Many things, dear wife! I see mountains and valleys, lakes and caves. The wonders of nature!” He said, approaching slowly like a wolf setting trap to a prey.

”Your domains as a King.” _Hold no lands, wear no crowns, win no glory._

”Aye, best view in Westeros!”

”Oh, I don’t know. The view from where I’m standing is quite pleasant as well.” She said licking her lips and looking closely at his groin.

Jon came close to her and began tracing a line, a light touch from his finger moving from the top of her forehead, along her nose, her lips, chin, neck, chest… but whatever Jon’s plans had been they were cut short as Dany gripped him hungrily. In a moment he was buried inside her and their mouths were crashing together in a confusion of tongues. They were taken over by a frenzied, wild lust. Her legs wrapped around him tightly, hands digging into each other’s body, his manhood thrusting inside her. He took one of her legs and hiked it over the crook of his arm, the change in angle enough to make her come violently.

”I want you Jon, fast…” There were times for slow, lazy love-making, but that was not one of those times. Sometimes she was like that, wanted all of him without delay, as if at any second the world could end, and Jon was only happy to oblige. He increased his rhythm, allowing himself to lose control and soon he found himself spilling his seed deep inside her. _I shall father no children._ He would happily break that vow as well, but it was not in his power to make that happen, no matter how many times he lost himself in her.

She caressed his face softly, making him look directly at her. Jon thought she had never looked more beautiful than at that moment. Skin sweating, lips bitten red, hair in disarray. He pressed his brow against hers and heard a low, satisfied sigh leave her lips. He was still inside her and she didn’t seem to be willing to let him go, her legs still binding him tightly to her. He lifted her from the sill and took their bodies to the bed, where they finally disentangled, lying next to one another on top of the furs. 

”I’m going to miss this.” Jon said after a while.

”Why, is there any rule in the North that a man can’t bed his wife?” answered Dany with a chuckle.

”It’s not that… we’re safe here, and warm. We won’t be this warm again until we reach Winterfell, and that will take a while. I never thought I’d say this but I’ll miss walking around naked.”

”We’ll find a way, my love.” she said softly. She had a sweet smile on her face and looked so young and careless. “Is Winterfell warmer than the other keeps, then?”

”Winterfell is always warm. Some say there’s a dragon hidden underneath Winterfell, keeping it hot! The truth is that the keep was built above hot springs, the water is piped through the walls to keep it warm. They also warm the glass houses and the pools in the Godswood.”

”Tyrion told me a story that there are dragon eggs hidden somewhere in Winterfell, but nobody was able to find them. Have you ever heard that one?”

”Aye, during the Dance of the Dragons. It’s just another story.”

”Maybe they’ll write stories about us one day.. Or maybe one of my children will lay a cluster of eggs and make the stories true!”

”If we win.” He said gloomily. _If we survive._

***

”Are you going to ask Ser Barristan?” asked Dany as she braided her hair before a mirror in the morning. 

”After practice. I’ll let you know how it went.” Jon answered, kissing her brow before leaving their cabin. He had shared with his wife what Sansa had told him about his mother. Both Lady Catelyn and Queen Cersei were convinced he was the son of Lady Ashara Dayne, the Sword of the Morning’s sister. If anyone could confirm or deny this story, it would be Barristan Selmy, and Jon needed to know. Ser Barristan had been Ser Arthur Dayne’s sworn brother and, according to Daenerys, had been secretly in love with the man’s sister. He seemed to have a strange fascination with Jon and had finally confessed it was because Jon reminded him of a friend. Jon was Stark through and through, in everything other than name. Yet, there was something missing, something that couldn’t be explained by his northern heritage. Even if it was true and Jon was Lady Ashara’s, it would still not explain why the dragons had taken to him as they did. Daenerys told him he must have some dragon blood in him, otherwise they would never behave the way they did, regardless of her affections for him. 

The soldiers aboard the ship met every morning to practice. The slippery and moving deck made for good, albeit dangerous, exercise. They all trained without armour, as it was dangerous to wear it on a ship, therefore their bodies sported the consequences of their actions, much to Daenerys’ annoyance. But even she joined them with Missandei at times, they needed to learn at least the basics of how to defend themselves. 

Although they tried not spending too long with one opponent, as not to become used to each other’s styles, Jon and Ser Barristan had a habit of sparing together every day. It had become a sort of a game, Jon would tease him for his age, and Ser Barristan would call him green while they drilled each other. No matter the bold knight’s age, he gave more fight than men thrice as young and Jon had much to learn with him.

”May I have a word with you?” Asked Jon while they were storing their weapons afterwards.

”Of course, Your Grace.” Answered Ser Barristan.

”I have something to ask you and I need you to be honest with me.” The older man eyed him uneasily but nodded in accordance. “Do you know who my mother might have been?” The man’s eyes dropped to the floor, it was obvious he knew something. “My Lord father never spoke of my mother, even today I haven’t the faintest idea who she might be. But I heard rumours, no matter how hard he tried to silence them in Winterfell. My sister Sansa, she heard her mother say I was Lady Ashara Dayne’s, later she heard the same thing from Cersei while she was trapped in King’s Landing. You knew her, you were Arthur Dayne’s sworn brother, tell me if it’s true?”

Surprisingly, the man seemed to be relieved. He looked Jon directly in the eye. “No, she was not your mother.” 

”Are you sure?”

”I am, Your Grace. I swear it on my honour.” Jon’s spirits sunk at that, maybe the truth was much worse and that was why Ser Barristan had seemed so bothered by his question. “She did have a child, but it wasn’t Ned’s, it was Brandon’s. Your uncle was hot headed, the Wild Wolf they called him! Lady Ashara bore him a girl, stillborn, the babe did not live to give a single breath. She suffered too many heard aches, Brandon died, Princess Elia, whom he waited on, died along with the two children, and then Arthur died too. After Ned returned Dawn to Starfall she took her own life…” Ser Barristan’s voice had faltered and he turned his sight away from Jon. 

”But you know, don’t you? I know you know something, tell me Ser Barristan.” Demanded Jon. 

”Do not asked it of me, Your Grace. What good is there in suspicions without proof? I might be wrong, and then what? Do not ask it of me, Your Grace. Not now, I beg you.” Ser Barristan’s plead had been so heartfelt that Jon could not demand the man to tell him anything else. 

”I won’t force you if you have doubts.” Jon said after a few moments, though it was difficult for him to imagine this man could know whence he came and wouldn’t tell him. The story of his birth must be truly shameful and the man was afraid to tell him. Ser Barristan must have read his thoughts in his face because his next words seemed set on soothing Jon.

”All I can say is that if I am right, you have no reason to be ashamed of your lineage.”

”Other than the fact I’m a bastard, you mean?” The words came out far more bitter than Jon had wished. 

”Your Grace, you should have learnt by now the manner of one’s birth should not weight on a child’s shoulders. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” But Jon was ashamed at that moment, at himself. At his childishness and bitterness and how he had spoken to a man who was nothing but honest and honourable. Jon was a King now, he thought he had stopped caring for about these things long ago but at in truth, at some times, the stain weighed upon him as heavy as ever. The words of Maester Aemon were clear in his mind as if he had been by his side. _It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born._ Jon had to kill the boy in him every day, until only the King was left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, to be honest it wasn't the easiest chapter for me to write. Next up they should make land in White Harbour if all goes as planned.


	9. Barristan III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival at White Harbour.  
> Party at New Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated the the awesome iia_ao3ac who beta-ed this chapter. Thanks :)
> 
> Thanks as well to all the comments and kudos. It means a lot.
> 
> This chapter took me longer to post than expect. Life happens, nothing you can do about it. I hope you enjoy this Barristan chapter.

# If There Was a Man

### Barristan III

Barristan woke up to a foggy morning. After nineteen nights on this trip they were finally about to make land. They should have arrived a week ago but the weather had been inclement. The fact that they could do nothing to arrive sooner left him with a sense of powerlessness that he could not shake. They had tried to keep busy, making plans, trying to make sense of a senseless situation, training their bodies and their minds for the task ahead. That at least gave Barristan some joy. He was not built to enjoy idleness. 

Spending time with the King, training with him, had at least been a good thing. Jon had the skill and wasn’t afraid to use it. While he fought, a slight brashness came to surface, a surprising find in the normally brooding and apparently humble young man. Yes, there was boldness in him, despite his upbringing. When the blood ran hot, there was no way to deny his heritage. _The gods toss a coin every time one of them is born._ He hoped it was greatness and not madness that was reserved for the last scions of House Targaryen, for everyone’s sake. But then, if they had to be mad they would already have shown it, after all they had suffered in their short lives. And maybe a touch of madness was what they would need to win this war.

White Harbour’s shape began to emerge from the mists in front of them, _the greatest port in the North_. There seemed to be people gathered by the harbour already and there were banners flying on its white washed walls. On deck, the sailors were already preparing to make land, working incessantly on the sails, ropes, and anchors. To the sides, the two other ships accompanying them also showed the same picture of activity. High above them two dragons streamed effortlessly in the air.

”Anxious to see home?” Barristan asked the youth looking expectantly at the prow. Kyle Ashwood was part of the King’s small retinue, hardly more than a boy. Whether or not he descended from the Ashwoods who had once held the Wolf’s Den was unknown, but he had been sent to wait on his King and wait he did. 

”Aye, Ser Barristan. Can’t wait to see my family again! And have my mom’s fish stew.” said the lad with a toothy grin. 

”You were born here, were you not?”

The boy nodded. ”My father, and his forefathers before him have been under the service of the Manderly’s since they came North but we descend from the First Men. Lord Manderly’s good-daughter is my mother’s cousin, though, that’s how I came to be in the King’s service. Not that I’ve had much to do so far, other than carry boxes of dragonglass and taking care of the King’s attire and armour. But I can’t complain, now can I? I visited the South, stayed at Dragonstone, met with so many people from Essos, the Dragon Queen! I was even a witness at their wedding! To think I was afraid when I left home, I thought we’d all be burned alive.”

”You know it will not be so easy in the future, don’t you?” asked Barristan.

”I know, but what good is there for me to dwell on that?” _The hope of youth!_ Barristan had been so once, never thinking about the difficulties. They had named him The Bold for that, would that he had the same optimism in his old age. 

”Go do something useful, then. Call below deck, we should make land in half an hour.” The lad bowed and quickly turned on his heels to do his duty. 

_My new war begins now._ It was only a question of time when the first battle would take place, but it would. The moment they stepped foot on solid land would be the first step towards the inevitable. Barristan prayed to the Gods to give his sword arm strength to fulfil his duty and protect his Queen… and his King. 

A moment later they stepped onto the deck. Jon was wearing his usual heavy cloak with warm furs. The very image of a King of Winter. His hair was neatly pulled back, the top gathered in a metal clasp Barristan had never seen him wear. There was steel in his eyes, but his mouth betrayed the excitement of going home. From behind him stepped Daenerys to stand by his side. Her hair had been braided carefully in the same style her mother used to wear. _She looks so much like her. May she be blessed with a more fortunate fate._ Her garments were dark grey and she wore the cloak her husband had put upon her shoulders on their wedding day clasped with a dragon pin. The King was flexing his right hand as was his wont, and she took it in hers, giving him a subtle nod when he looked her way. 

Tyrion Lannister was approaching him at the prow, climbing onto the railings with an unexpected ease for a dwarf. “It’s a fine sight, don’t you think Ser Barristan? Pitiful brothels, I can tell you, but fine view.”

He could not help but laugh at the comment. “Yes, it is a fine view. As to the rest, I take your word for it. I will however warn you that it is of very bad taste to have the Hand of the Queen visit brothels when we are preparing for war.”

”My whoring days are sadly over, Ser Barristan. Somewhere between King’s Landing and Mereen I lost the taste for it.” Told him Tyrion with a disdainful smile. “They make a fine pair, don’t you think?” he said, nodding at the couple.

”They do. Let’s see if the Northern Lords agree with us.”

”Let’s hope so, Ser Barristan.” 

Slowly, the ships were manoeuvred into the harbour. Barristan and the other guards looked carefully to make sure their welcome was friendly. If someone wished to harm Daenerys and her husband they would have to kill him first. After he was satisfied that nothing seemed amiss he gave sign that the plank could be lowered. A guard of honour seemed to have assembled in the meanwhile, and Lord Wyman Manderly and his family had approached to be the first to greet the sovereigns. Barristan was first to step out of the ship, greeting those assembled. Lord Manderly in particular seemed pleased to see him. A couple of Northern and Unsullied guards made land afterwards, showing a united front that must have surprised the audience. Then the King, with his Queen by his hand, descended slowly, the couple eyeing the subjects with eager eyes, assessing the reaction. The Northerners waiting for them on the dock had taken off their cloaks and spread them on the floor for them to step over. _That is a nice touch,_ he thought, _let’s hope it is not merely a mummers’ show._ Everyone around them went to one knee or offered a curtsy. Barristan approached the couple, his hand prominently on the hilt of his sword while his eyes roamed the crowd while behind them the remainder of their retinues stepped on solid land.

”Rise, please!” exclaimed the King with a steady, strong voice. Lord Manderly was trying his best to rise from his previous position, aided by his not much lighter son.

”My King! Welcome to my humble seat. Welcome home!” He was eyeing the Queen with a curious, but not unfriendly look. _He notices the resemblance, clearly. Maybe there’s some credit to Tyrion’s plan._

”It is good to be back North, even if the circumstances are dire. May I have the honour of presenting my lady wife, Queen Daenerys Targaryen.” The list of titles she usually had Missandei unroll were left behind.

The audience eyed her with both fascination and suspicion. ”My Queen! I did not think I would live to see the day I would bow before a Targaryen again, yet here we are.” Then, after only a moment’s hesitation, “Welcome to your new home.” His eyes seemed to soften. “You have your mother’s looks, Your Grace.” He added, bringing her hand to his lips.

”Lord Manderly, I am pleased to be back with my people. The North is my family now, but I hope you will have time to speak to me of my mother. I heard you met her.” 

The man seemed to blush like a maid at that. “Only briefly, Your Grace. But she was a good woman, she did not deserve her lot in life. I hope you take after her in more than looks!”

”I hope so as well.”

More pleasantries were exchanged, family members were introduced before the fat Lord presented his gift to their new Queen. Why had he not presented them right away? Maybe he was deciding whether she was worthy or not. ”I thought her Grace would need a ride when she arrived! I took the liberty of arranging it.”

A fine black mare was brought forth by a young stable boy, along with the King’s equally black destrier which he had left behind when he sailed south. Daenerys took a step forth and caressed her mare’s head with her ungloved hand. She was smiling sweetly.

One of her blood riders started examining the horse with trained expertise. He spoke some words in his strange language that the Queen promptly translated. “A fine gift! Fit for a Khaleesi. It fits with my other ride.” and she looked at the sky, from which Drogon released a dreadful cry. The crowd looked above with fear but the Queen was quick to quiet them. “You need not fear my dragons. They are here to protect the North and help us win this war. The only ones who need to fear them are traitors and the dead.”

”And I’m still here, aren’t I?” asked the King. “You don’t need to fear them, just don’t do something stupid.” the crowd’s mood seemed to improve. “I said I would bring help and I did. Dragonglass to craft weapons, soldiers to wield them, dragons to fight our enemies, and a Queen to command them.” Cheers started erupting from the crowd, first shy, then increasing in fervour as he spoke with passion.

”I swear by the Old Gods and the New, I and my forces will fight for the North and for the Living until my dying breath. You have my word.” Barristan knew Daenerys did not believe in any Gods, but Tyrion had made it very clear that she it was important for the people to hear her swear by them in order to believe her word. And it was working. The Queen’s voice was met by cheers as well, turning the tide in their favour.

They were to stop at White Harbour only one night. Lord Manderly had organized a feast in honour of the King and his new Queen but at break of dawn they would all start their journey towards Winterfell, joining with the rest of the Queen’s troops on the Kingsroad. 

In the evening, the great hall of New Castle was filled to the brim with people anxious to greet the royal couple. Up on the dais, the table was already half filled with the older Lord Manderly, his son Wylis with his wife, the Lady Leona. Their daughters sat below with the rest of the party, at the same table as Tyrion and Missandei. Throughout the hall, members of smaller Northern Houses were gathering, the food sitting untouched upon the long tables but the wine and ale were already flowing freely. Barristan was looking through the crack of a door to make sure everything was in order before Jon and Daenerys made their way in. He signalled Kyle to call them from their quarters where they had been readying themselves. 

The hall turned silent and everyone rose as Jon and Daenerys entered it. After a few words of thanks they took their seats at the centre of the dais and the feast began. Barristan had already taken a meal and was to keep guard behind the King and Queen. Other trustworthy guards had been spread throughout the hall and at each entrance to avoid unsavoury surprises. The Manderly’s fierce devotion to the Starks was the stuff of legends, but it never hurt to be careful. The banquet consisted mainly of seafood, as expected from White Harbour. There were crab pies, fish cooked in a bed of salt and herbs, braised seaweed, fish eggs, poached cod faces… the list went on and on. The ale and wine were fine and liberally served. After the meal there was a long string of people coming to congratulate them or simply being introduced. Men from all around White Harbour were to follow to Winterfell as part of the Northern Army next day. Soon afterwards started the toasts to everything they could think of: to the North, to a favourable war campaign, a short winter, the health of the King and Queen, to their future children, the health of the Starks and their allies, to the Manderlys, to the Queen’s armies, to the dragons. Lord Manderly even toasted to the beloved memory of his wife and to the late Queen Mother. There was no doubt he was well into his cups, talking and talking to the people around him, but especially to Daenerys. It seemed like the old man’s fears were past and forgotten by then. 

”I tell you, my Queen, I have never been a slender man, not like your husband there, but after my lady wife died I found my comfort in food as other men would find in the arms of a woman. I know well enough what people call me, _too fat to sit on a horse_. Ha!”

The Queen gave a chuckle, she could not deny the man’s nickname. “But you rode a horse to the keep earlier today, my Lord!” she answered politely.

”Aye, I did. And it was a great effort for both me and the horse. After your lord husband became King and I knew we would fight another war I made a decision. I would fight as well, and to fight I need to be able to ride without killing my horse. Or else I’ll be killing wights and Lannisters by squashing them under my arse. Pardon the language, Your Grace. And no offense!” he shouted at a nearby table to a stunned and half-drunk Tyrion and his cousin, who was Manderly’s maester.

”None taken, Lord Manderly. I quite approve of the sentiment.” Tyrion raised his glass and emptied it at once.

”Your cousin there should keep that well in mind.” Jon had told them Wyman Manderly did not completely trust the man. He was not allowed use of the rookery for fear that he might be sending information south, although he was kept as a maester for his medical knowledge. The evening was proving much more amusing than Barristan could have imagined.

”I’m sure there are other things you can do to help in the war other than on the fighting field. You are a wise man, and cunning from what I’ve gathered. My lord husband speaks highly of you!” Daenerys was determined on charming the man.

”You are too kind! But I have made my mind, I won’t sit around while even my granddaughters fight in this war. Did you know your husband had every boy and girl learn how to take arms?” The queen nodded. “I had my maester cut my meals. The man is starving me at my own request. But I can see it’s working! I _can_ ride a horse now. And you must promise me right now you will give me the pleasure of a dance with you.” Daenerys tried to control her embarrassment, searching in vain for her husband’s attention while he was debating some matter with Wylis Manderly. “Not today! Don’t worry, I know well enough I’m not dancing material at the moment.” She tried saying something but there was no shutting up the man and she ended up just laughing. This was no façade she was putting, _she’s not wearing floppy ears_. She was genuinely amused with him, she looked so happy and young. “But promise me I will have your first dance at the first name day of your first born, if the Gods grant it that I will survive this war.” Her laugh withered at that, though she tried to disguise it. 

”I rather not think of that at the moment. We have a war to fight, two wars in fact. But you have my word, my Lord. If we are both living I shall give you the first dance at my first born’s first name day.” Her voice trembled slightly when she said it, though Barristan could not see if the emotion was visible on her face or not. All he knew was that Lord Manderly must have been moved by her reaction, for he kindly took her hand in his and padded it in a fatherly way.

”Don’t think the worse, my dear. You know? You are just like your mother, I can tell. And that, for me, is a good thing. I was against my King going south. My two sons went south with his brother when he was King. The youngest never came back, what I had to do to get Wylis back is unspeakable. When I first heard you two were wedded I wasn’t so happy either, but you have my support now. And once I give it, it is set in stone.”

”Thank you Lord Manderly. I shan’t ever forget your words or your welcome. We will win this war, I promise you!”

There was music and dancing that night. It didn’t even feel like there was a war around the corner. Maybe all of them wanted to forget about it, even if only for a moment. To have happy memories to cherish on a cold winter night. Slowly, the celebrants left the room. Many went hand in hand, like the King and the Queen, knowing that every night could be their last, wanting to take what happiness they could in the time they had left. Others embraced parents, children, friends. Others still, drank to oblivion. 

Barristan did not have watching duties that night, leaving to others the task of guarding Jon and Daenerys’ door. He was old, _let others spend the nights awaken._ His bedroom was again shared with Davos, the two men having grown accustomed to each other during the trip North. The man was sitting by a table with a goblet of wine and a sheet of paper.

”There was a letter waiting for me when I arrived, Ser Barristan.” The man was smiling and his eyes betrayed a deep emotion. “I sent my wife and the younger ones to Bravos. They arrived safely and are set up nicely. I may now fight this war in peace, even if I don’t ever see them again.”

”You feared for their safety?” The onion knight nodded in agreement. “It is good you sent them away. They will be safer there. Was that why you were speaking for so long with that man?” Barristan had watched them from across the room with curiosity.

”Oh, no. That was something else. Nothing escapes your eye, does it? That was Lord Godric Borrell, of Sisterton. I’ve been coming this way north for many years, most of the times not so legally. Last time I was there I was trying to reach White Harbour, but that’s a story for another time. The thing is, while I was there, I was told that a fisherman’s daughter from the Sisters was our King’s mother. I met Lord Borrell again before we departed south, and asked him if he could find the woman. I know Jon suffers from not knowing where he came from and if I could ease that for him… I thought I would be doing him a service.”

 _You can search all you want for Jon’s mother, but you won’t find her amongst the living._ How could they all have believed for so long that Ned could have done such a thing as sire a bastard, and on some random woman. ”And did he find her?” Barristan nevertheless asked. 

”He found her alright. At first she didn’t deny being his mother but when she was asked if she would like to meet him she backed away. She confessed she had gotten a bag of coin for smuggling Lord Eddard during the rebellion and then more afterwards so that she wouldn’t confirm or deny being the boy’s mother. She used the money well, made a good life for herself and her family, but she swore she never did anything improper with Lord Eddard, let alone bear him a bastard. She kept her word but she couldn’t lie to the King’s face, now could she? I just wonder, why would he ask such a thing of her?” _If only I could tell you._ Davos was a thoroughly good man, there was no denying. He seemed to care for Jon as for a son at times. Maybe it was the absence of his own kin that made him do it. But Barristan could not share his suspicions with anyone else, not unless he had firm proof. _Maybe I never will, maybe I will bear this secret to my grave, like Ned._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be a mini chapter coming up in a couple of days. Something I felt the need to write in between. I hope you enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you think!


	10. Tyrion II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion catches up with a cousin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, I feel honoured that the last chapter was so well received. 
> 
> Thanks iia_ao3ac for being an amazing beta and pointing out the little details that help me improve this story.
> 
> This is a small chapter, but I thought it would be important to set some things in motion. I hope you like it.

# If There Was a Man

### Tyrion II

Tyrion looked at the crowd abandoning the great hall of New Castle and wondered how in the seven hells he got there. They had had a feast to celebrate the return north of their King, Jon Snow. A man he had known as a bastard son, idealistically joining the Night’s Watch, forsaking women, lands, and crowns. Who had died and came back to wed, hold lands, and bear a crown. And not a bastard… not that Tyrion could ever share that knowledge - because he was now sure that was the truth - with anyone. His Lord father had been Hand to a Targaryen King and for as much as he fought to be different from his sire here was Tyrion, Hand to a Targaryen Queen and a secret Targaryen King. Life was funny sometimes. Undoubtedly cruel, but still funny. 

His reverie was interrupted by the voice of his cousin” I need to talk to you.” he said in a low voice. 

”Is it a way to win this war so that we can all live happily ever after? If not, I’m not sure I’m interested.” Tyrion never had much patience for his cousin Theomore, who was employed by the Manderlys as their maester. 

He still remembered when he had been sent to the Citadel. Lord Tywin had paid all expenses himself, as if to spite his youngest son, having declared that no matter how much he enjoyed his books, he would never allow a son of his to serve others. Not that Tyrion had wanted that anyway. Yes, knowledge was his weapon, knowledge was his only true talent, and the only thing that allowed him to rise above what everyone else expected of a dwarf. But Tyrion’s eyes were set elsewhere. He had always thought Theomore a morose, humourless boy. The man in front of him was still morose and humourless, though not incompetent. Despite this, the Manderlys had put limits to his actions, fearful that he would betray them to his southern relatives. And maybe he would, if he had the chance. But his cousin had never liked Cersei. If that wasn’t a quality to be appreciated, Tyrion didn’t know what was! 

”Don’t start with your jests, the matter is serious.” 

”Spill it out, then. What is it?” _Better get this over with._ The sooner they finished, the sooner he could drag himself back to his quarters and nurse his impending headache.

”You know that whatever I do, I’m only thinking of the best for this house. I’m loyal to the Manderlys, whether they believe me or not.” Theomore said with a haughty expression. 

”So you’ve told me. But did you truly believe they would forget what happened to the Starks just like that? And accept those fucking Boltons as wardens? They owe the Starks too much.” _The North remembers._

”Stannis was never going to be able to rule over the whole country. There didn’t seem to be a better alternative at the time.” said Theodore, nursing an empty cup of ale in his hands. “Say it, go ahead! I know I’m a fool.” He looked Tyrion closely in the eye with worry. “I heard what Cersei did. I always knew she was a bit unhinged, but blow up the Sept… is she truly mad?”

”I’ve been saying it for years but nobody believed me! She agreed to send troops north to fight the dead, at least. Though I’ll only believe it when I see them.”

”Are you getting the Rock if our side wins?” he asked raising his eyebrows.

”Oh, it’s _our_ side now? Yes, I suppose so. Why do you ask?” _You want to fall in our good graces, regain some of your lost prestige._

”Look, I have no interest in helping Cersei, not any more. Say what you will about me, but I’m a rational man. I’ll help you in any way I can, just don’t forget about me when you are settled in the Tower of the Hand, alright?”

”Cersei blew it up as well, didn’t you know?” The look his cousin gave him was so funny it almost made it worth talking to him. “Daenerys doesn’t forget those who help her, just like she doesn’t forget those who betray her.”

”I understand, Tyrion. I have no intention of ending my life as dragon fodder. Come, take that flagon and let’s finish it off in my rooms.” 

The maester’s chambers at New Castle were large but cluttered with books, parchment, and vials. Passing through the working room, they reached the bedroom which was sparsely furnished but warm and comfortable. His cousin bolted the doors before pulling two chairs for them to sit on. 

He served Tyrion and himself a cup of wine before speaking again. “I have something for you. I got a raven two days ago from the Riverlands.”

”I thought you were not allowed in the rookery!” _Could this be a trick?_

”I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed correspondence! I have to show it to them, though.” He said embarrassed.

”What are you waiting for, man? Tell me who’s it from and what it says.” His cousin searched his sleeves for the message.

”It’s from your brother Jaime. He tells me he’s moving North to join the Northern and the Dragon Queen’s forces. He’s bringing troops with him but he didn’t give any other details. The King and Queen have already been informed.”

His brother’s handwriting had been slowly improving, despite this it still felt somewhat foreign to him. Tyrion read the scroll, it was indeed sparse on information. He couldn’t understand why his brother would send such a message. And to Theomore of all people! It told them nothing they didn’t already know. His cousin fumbled again inside his sleeves and produced another scroll.

“There was another scroll hidden inside. I managed to snatch it before they noticed. It’s for you, I didn’t read it, believe it if you will. I suppose he wanted to keep it secret, otherwise he would have sent it openly.”

”Why didn’t you give this to me as soon as I arrived?” Tyrion exclaimed annoyed, extending his hand.

His cousin handed him a very small scroll with a red wax seal bearing no sigil. His hands hurried to open it. No matter their misgivings, Tyrion loved his brother and knew the sentiment was returned. If his brother had seen it fit to send him a message secretly, it had to be important. He broke the seal carefully and unrolled the message. The writing was crammed together and difficult to read, it appeared to have been written in a hurry.

Tyrion could not believe his eyes. ”I must speak to the Queen and King immediately!” He hurried off the chair and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. His headache was about to get much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm looking forward to your comments :)


	11. Daenerys III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From White Harbour to Moat Cailin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. I had written a draft, but ended up throwing it away. Sometimes it’s better to just start from scratch. Luckily I have a great beta, iia_ao3ac, who keeps me in check. I also have her to thank for helping me with distances in Westeros. Thanks iia_ao3ac!
> 
> There's something for everyone in this chapter: smut, intrigue, foreshadowing, etc. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> **Important note:** There are several divergences in this story, mainly towards the TV series. I strongly dislike the changes to the Dorne plot. In the books it was boring but it made sense. In the series it was still boring but made no sense. Therefore, I changed a couple of things. I won’t go into telling that story, and it doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that Ellaria Sand did not kill Myrcella, on the contrary. Like in the books, Myrcella was being kept by the Martells in Dorne, promised to Trystane and as far as possible, safe. Dorne still allied with Daenerys (I won’t go into fake Aegon here), who had no ill feelings towards Myrcella. In this story, Cersei has asked (off-page) a gift from Euron “Crow’s Eye” Greyjoy: to bring back her girl no matter what. He attacked the Martells and everything went to shit, obviously.

# If There Was a Man

###  Daenerys III

Dany had not known what to expect from White Harbour. From what she had discussed with Jon and Tyrion it could either go very well or very badly, but whatever impression she left on Lord Manderly could change her reception in the entire North. The man’s late wife had waited on her lady mother when they were both maidens and, if Ser Barristan remembered correctly, they both attended her parents’ wedding. The Manderlys, despite having their origins in the South, were staunchly loyal to the Starks. When they needed a home they found it in the North and from then on their allegiance never faltered. Lord Manderly was powerful, difficult to read, and his opinion mattered. 

Their reception at the harbour seemed friendly enough, but Dany knew it might mean nothing. The smallfolk had warmed to her after both she and Jon had spoken but the Manderlys remained unreadable in their polite smiles. Lord Manderly’s granddaughters, in particular, eyed her with ill-concealed suspicion. _Maybe they had fancied Jon would wed one of them._

During the party, however, things had changed. As the night went by, Lord Manderly became more and more pleasant to her. He asked her about life in Essos and her experiences so far in Westeros. In return, he told her about her mother. At least her earlier years. He said the wedding was one of the saddest he had ever attended. Dany had felt a pang of pain inside her at his words.

Tyrion had given her very specific instructions on how to act once they arrived, making it clear that the North would not respond well to declarations of fire and blood. The recent history had left deep scars, and some of those present had fought against her father. Tyrion had painted another mask for her to wear. In some way or another, Dany had always played a part during her life. To the Dothraki she was the strong Khaleesi, in Quarth the innocent girl, and to the Mereenese the inexperienced ruler. She had never imagined how difficult it was to leave those masks behind. But being honest and showing her true self had brought Jon to her side. Only he knew her true heart, the woman hidden within the queen. Speaking with Lord Manderly she had allowed her latest mask to slip slightly and somehow that again had worked in her favour. The man had seen truth in her words and her actions. Unexpectedly, Dany discovered she liked him very much. He reminded her of Brown Ben Plumm, but in a good way. He talked the entire dinner as his tongue was let loose by the ale he consumed. But when they were about to part for the night, the man took her hand and brought his face near hers. Suddenly, he no longer seemed to be in his cups. His eyes were fixed onto hers as he spoke in a low voice.

”I like you and I will give you my support. Don’t make me regret it.” It was equal parts a threat and the hope of a man who had seen too much treachery. 

”You won’t, my Lord.” She answered without letting her eyes roam away. He nodded and gave her what she believed was a genuine smile and left.

Whatever happiness and relief that day had brought her quickly faded away with the news of Cersei’s latest betrayal. They had discussed their situation deep into the night. Thankfully, Cersei seemed to have been counting on the element of surprise but now they could get ready. A silver lining, she supposed. It was, however, more difficult to be convinced of Jaime Lannister’s change in loyalty, no matter what Tyrion could say to them.

”Whatever loyalty he had for her is gone. What happened to Myrcella was the last straw. The only thing he cares is that, if she truly is with child, that he or she may be spared. Cersei never allowed him much contact with the children, she was afraid someone might realize the truth. Now he has his last chance, that’s all he cares about.” Tyrion pleaded.

Jaime had left their sister, Tyrion claimed, to keep true to his word about fighting the Others. Cersei had hurt him terribly by doing exactly what he had avoided years before by breaking his oath to Aerys II. She had used wildfire to blow part of King’s Landing. But she only definitely lost his love, or so Tyrion claimed, after she sent Euron to retrieve their daughter back from the Dornish. It had turned into a massacre… her allies to the south were no more, and the girl Myrcella had perished along with them. Yet, Cersei still blamed the Dornish and Tyrion for her daughter’s death, not the Crow’s Eye and not herself for having agreed with the mad plan. She was deluded. How could a woman like that be granted yet another child? If that even was true, which her Hand was convinced it wasn’t. But Dany could not bring herself to risk hurting an unborn child either. That would be too much. 

They had ridden from White Harbour five days past and at any moment they would be arriving at Moat Cailin, where her armies were already waiting. If all went well, they would be meeting Jaime Lannister, and whatever troops he could amass on his way north, soon as well. She wanted them to ride with the rest of her troops to Winterfell, just in case some other deceit was in the works. _We ride home,_ she told herself. Or at least Jon’s home, which was close enough. 

Moat Cailin seemed like a doomed place. Ruined towers and the rickety remains of a keep stood in the centre of swamps as desolate as if death itself inhabited them. Drogon and Rhaegal hovering above it only added to the eerie effect. They had been riding as hard as they could but the weather did not bow to kings or queens. She could hardly feel her legs and bottom, such was the cold they were experiencing. Cold, Jon had told her, burned as deep as fire. 

In the distance she could see the encampments, above the tents the banners of several Westerosi houses sworn to her, along with the newly made banners of the charging black stallion on a field of grass of the Dothraki, and the bronze spiked cap in a field of red of the Unsullied, could be seen flying. In the towers, the sigils of House Targaryen and House Stark flew higher than all others. From the distance, she could see riders approaching. The company included Ser Jorah, Ser Paxter Redwyne, two of her bloodriders, and the captains of her Unsullied. 

Greetings were exchanged, along with congratulations on their wedding. The news had travelled fast, the forces had arrived three days prior and had news and orders waiting for them. 

”I hope you had no trouble passing the Neck. Did you need to show my letter?” Jon asked.

”We were stopped by some Crannogmen, but they already knew who we were. Some joined us to ease the passage through the marches. When I arrived, I gave Brandon Tallhart your letter” and pointed to the young man riding by his side. Jon had given Ser Jorah a safe pass to re-enter the North, stating he had payed for his former crimes, but Ser Jorah’s presence could still prove problematic. 

”Blood of my blood, how is the khalasar taking the northern weather?” Dany asked Aggo. The man had acquired an assortment of furs since she had last seen him.

”Khaleesi, your warriors do not fear the weather any more than they fear our enemies. The thought of war keeps us warm!” he answered.

”I trust there have been no problems in my absence.” she questioned. Dothraki were difficult to control, their habits of pillage and chaos hard to let go, but her orders were clear as was the punishment for such crimes.

”No one has dared, Khaleesi. If they do, they will not draw breath again.”

”And the Unsullied, Grey Worm? How are you faring this campaign?” He seemed to be wearing the same armour as in the South. Dany knew her Unsullied would never complain of the weather or show signs of weakness. She would have to order them to get more clothes if she didn’t want them freezing or losing limbs to the cold. 

”This one is happy to serve, so are the rest of the Unsullied.”

”Your Graces, the Gatehouse Tower has been readied to receive you. I believe you have ravens waiting for you.” 

”Thank you, Lord Tallhart. I would first like to see my people. I can rest later.” 

As they approached the encampment, the Dothraki swarmed around them like bees. Jon kept close to her as well as Ser Barristan, Ser Jorah, Jon’s Northern guards, and the rest of her bloodriders. There were tents in every patch of dry land and cook fires to warm and feed them. The Unsullied gathered as well, quiet and organized as was their habit. They wanted to hear her. But many also wanted to see Jon, the man she had chosen for a husband. Many of them already knew him, had dealt with him, worked alongside him, rode with him, and fought with him while on Dragonstone. The Dothraki called him Khal Aheshke, Winter King, a most fitting name. Most importantly, Jon had gained her people’s respect. From hearing Aggo, apparently it had come as no surprise to those closer to them that they had wed. 

”Blood of my blood! I have brought you here to fight an enemy no khalasar has faced before and we shall win! I have joined my life and my blood with the King of the North, and we are now one khalasar and one blood. We shall fight together, we will face the undead, and we will destroy them. And after that we will ride south again, victorious, and no man shall stand in our way!” there were screams and cries as she spoke those words. The women who had ridden north with the rest of the khalasar were gathering around them, some trying to touch Jon who seemed uncomfortable to be the object of such attentions. They offered them both blessings for their wedding, wishes of strong sons to follow their lead. Dany wanted to believe their words.

As much as Dany and Jon spoke about fighting together there was a clear separation between Essosi and Westerosi troops. Looking out the window from the Gatehouse Tower she could see it clearly. Most of the Westerosi banners belonged to Southron noble houses. Most of them were from the Reach, some having been loyal to the Tyrells and others having bent the knee after the Tarlys’ demise. Lord Redwyne was commanding them, in lack of any other leader. The Redwynes had strong family ties to the Tyrells. When Cersei nearly destroyed the family, they had rebelled against her, siding with Ollena Tyrell, who had been born a Redwyne. Lord Paxten was her nephew and his wife her daughter. He wanted nothing better than to see Cersei’s head on a spike. And if he could gain a higher position for his house in the process, better yet. Some men of the Reach had been left behind, guarding what was left of their kingdom. Even Horn Hill was being protected after Lady Tarly had pledged for Daenerys. Jon had also told her of his friend Samwell and she had wanted to do good for him, wives and children should not suffer for the foolishness of their husbands and parents. 

”How many houses are here from the South?” Ser Barristan asked. He was having the same thought, there were not nearly enough men.

”’bout a dozen! But we got ravens from many others saying they should arrive within the next few weeks, including from House Selmy. In fact, many houses from the Dornish Marshes have answered the call.” Ser Jorah offered. 

”That is good, it means their word was true.” Ser Barristan had spoken with many of his old acquaintances after arriving from Essos. His influence still had weight in Westeros, he was a man whose word could not be doubted and it brought many to her side.

”I doubt any others will arrive from the Reach, at least for now. But most are here anyhow.” said Lord Redwyne. Others nodded in agreement.

”We just got a raven from Winterfell, they have received some scrolls of several houses swearing allegiance to us and announcing they are sending men north. There have also been houses refusing to help…” Jon said. When he read the letter earlier on he had been furious.

”I’m afraid we won’t be able to wait here for their arrival. We should follow to Winterfell as soon as possible. Any word from my brother?” Tyrion was anxious to know.

”Not that I know of, milord, but they should be arriving these days, if what he said was true.” Brandon Tallhart said. The young man was responsible for holding Moat Cailin. 

”At least we did get some information on my dear sister’s men.”

”Yes, from what I can tell the informants we left scattered have been doing a good job. That was a good idea you had, with the code.” said Ser Barristan. Tyrion had found a way of hiding useful information on seemingly innocuous messages. That way, they were not completely blind as to the movements in the South. If only Varys sent some news as well…

”I will take Drogon for scouting south tomorrow. We’ll know if there are more forces to arrive in the next two days. After that we’ll have to leave.”

”Don’t you think it’s dangerous, Your Grace?” asked Ser Jorah. 

”I agree, what if there are enemy forces, what if they are carrying more scorpions?” her husband worried Jaime’s surrender might be a ruse.

”I’ll be careful and stay hidden as well as I can. You don’t have to worry.” but he would worry, she knew he would. She also knew he was not the kind of man to forbid her from doing everything that had to be done to win the war. 

There had been no feast like they’d had in New Castle, as there were not enough provisions in the keep. The Southerners had brought some food with them but it should not be wasted in banquets. 

Dany thought about taking Drogon for a ride that same day but she was too tired for it, and besides the night was already falling. The days were getting shorter and shorter now that winter was here. The previous nights they had made camp as well as they could on the snow covered grounds. No matter the brazier that had been lit for them, her only heat seemed to come from Jon’s body holding her close. She longed only for bed but their chambers in the tower were bleak, and musty, and cold. A few stones had been heated in the hearth and placed at their feet but they could only give so much heat. Maybe she should have curled along with her dragons, but the thought of sleeping without Jon left her cold inside. She was removing only her outer layers before climbing into bed with Jon, who was already beneath the protective warmth of the pile of furs. He knelt on the bed as she took off her boots and pulled her near, nuzzling at her neck and leaving a trail of kisses along the exposed skin. 

”What do you think you’re doing?” She said with a chuckle.

”What do you think I’m doing? Just trying to get us warm!” His hands trailed around her waist, before pulling her onto the bed. 

”I haven’t even finished undressing. Jon!” Not that he cared, she knew. Jon randomly dispensed kisses as he went along her body. He was in a playful mood, telling her silly things and tickling her to make her laugh. He started pulling at her breeches with practiced ease, making his intentions clear to her. Dany knew what he craved for but she had cravings of her own to satisfy. She turned him onto his back and chased him as he backed away to lean against the headboard. Though he tried to pull her with him, she drew away, smiling wantonly. 

”You stay right there. Do not move until I command you.” she ordered with her most assertive voice and he gave her the wicked smile he save only for her. 

”As my queen commands!” that was all she needed to hear. Dany slid her hands up his legs until she reached the bulge forming in between. Her hands worked the laces of his small clothes slowly, with precise gestures, pulling down the fabric while kissing along his collarbone. She opened the undershirt he was wearing further down, allowing her lips to move slowly down to his nipple, nibbling and sipping gently. She wondered if he felt the same pleasure she did when it was her on the receiving end. Her hands moved under his shirt, tracing the chiselled muscles of his abdomen but careful not to touch his hardening manhood. 

”Are you trying to drive me mad, is that your plan?” he said with a chuckle. 

”That’s exactly my plan, husband.” He swallowed then bit his lower lip in anticipation. 

Without taking her eyes off his, she lowered herself until she was in a level with his groin and kissed the bulging head of his cock. His breath seemed to falter, as it always did when she took him in her mouth. She licked and kissed along his length before focusing again on the head, making her tongue circle beneath the skin surrounding it. She knew by experience that it drove him insane, and she could see how his eyes became mere slits as he moaned softly. She decided to take her hands off his hip bones and put them to good use, one holding and moving along his shaft while the other cradled his stones, feeling their weight and shape while her mouth continued licking and sucking. Before long, she could feel his muscles contracting and knew he was close.

”Dany… if you want to stop, now would be a good time.” he managed to warn her between groans. 

She raised her head and looked at him, signalling she would do no such thing. Instead, she just kept going with more intensity. A few more seconds and she heard his breathing catch before he practically growled, while her mouth filled with the taste of salted honey. 

She laid her head onto his chest as his breathing returned to normal, feeling his heart beating strongly beneath her ear.

”You _will_ drive me mad one of these days.” He said as he caressed her and kissed her hair.

”I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine. You like it, don’t you?”

”Aye, you know I do. But I like it even better when we’re close together and I can kiss your lips as I let myself go.” 

”I know, but I badly needed to taste you.” She would usually stop before he spent himself and let him quiet down, before carrying on in some different position, but she had recently found a taste for her husband’s seed.

”I’m not finished with you, though. I wanna have a taste of you as well.” They had taken one another in all manners they saw fit, discovering what pleased them most. Still, he always seemed eager to pleasure her with his tongue. In fact he seemed to extract great pleasure to himself as she wriggled and screamed in result of his mouth’s ministrations. He was a generous lover and gave as much as he took. 

”Just wait a bit, I’ll be right back.” she had to use the privy first.

”If I fall asleep, wake me up.”

There was an adjacent room holding a bathtub and a privy. A luxury considering how decrepit the keep was. She washed her face of the grime of the day before she sat on the cold wooden seat. Dany looked at her small clothes. Aside from the obvious signs of her arousal there was nothing. _It means nothing,_ she thought, _it is nothing._

When she returned to bed, Jon was asleep but she didn’t want to wake him up. She snuffed the candle by the bedside and curled next to him, feeling the warmth that emanated from his body, and let sleep take her. That night she dreamt of dragons.

She called her dragons after breaking her fast. They had made a nest for themselves in the ruins of the old keep but now they were in the open, where everyone could see her take flight. It did not hurt to remind them who she was. Jon was with her, reminding her incessantly about the precautions she should take. He was worried, but she wasn’t willing to take any risks. As usual, both Drogon and Rhaegal were begging for his touch. Rhaegal, especially, was constantly teasing him, even making him trip and fall in his restlessness. _Like an oversized kitten._

”I think he might let you ride him, if you try.” she had been thinking of it for a while now, but it was risky. There was no proof that he had any dragon blood in him, the dragons might like him simply because she was in love with him. 

”I’ve been called reckless many times, but I’m not that foolish. He’d just burn me or drop me from the sky for a joke. I leave flying to you, thank you very much.” he handed her a small bag with some food and a skin of water. “Just remember to be careful. Come back safe.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips then stepped aside.

She had studied the map carefully and knew what direction to take. It felt good to fly, Drogon responded to her indications but had a will of his own, and an intelligence beyond measure. She had been following roughly the King’s Road, keeping above the clouds as much as possible. It was cold, but she could feel the heat emanating from beneath her making it strangely comfortable. She saw forests, and fields, and bogs for what seemed to her hours. She could barely see a column of men marching along the road. She estimated they were around 400 men, most on foot, carrying no visible banner. She rose again in the air, so that they could not easily see her, and took a sharp turn to the left. They were well clad and obviously a well-trained army. At the head of the column was a man with light hair, it could only be Jaime Lannister. That was all she needed to see. She turned around and reverse her route back north, taking note of any landmarks. It was good Jon and Ser Jorah had drilled her on these things, as they would come in handy now. They were on the Neck, and should arrive in two days’ time, maybe three if the weather turned. It was mid-afternoon before she set foot again on solid ground.

”I told you he was speaking the truth.” Tyrion voiced.

”Can we afford waiting for them?” Dany was afraid of losing more time here instead of just moving to Winterfell.

”I’m anxious to see my brother and sisters again, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving a Lannister army to its own devices in the North. We should keep them well under our eyes. Besides, for good or for bad, no news have reached us from the Wall. The food and dragonglass we sent from the Harbour should be enough to keep the spirits at Winterfell, if not quiet, then under control until we arrive. Sansa will see to that.”

”Then we wait?” she inquired. Around the room, the faces nodded one by one.

And wait they did, while occupying themselves with other matters, writing and receiving ravens, training and planning. Dany and Jon were set on uniting the different sectors of her armies, so had formed mixed training and scouting groups of Westerosi and Essosi. The language was still a problem, but there seemed to be enough people with at least a basic understanding of different tongues that made it workable. Dany spent any time she could spare riding Drogon and trying to control Rhaegal from a distance but that was not easy. The green dragon was a bit of a rebel and had never enjoyed being ordered about. 

At dusk, two days after Daenerys had first detected them on her dragon, the Lannister men arrived at Moat Cailin. A committee was sent forth to meet them and escort Ser Jaime to her presence and Jon’s. 

The Hall was filled as the Kingslayer made his way in, with Jon and Daenerys at the head of the great table surrounded by their advisors and commanders of their armies. The first to stir was Tyrion, who left their side to go greet his brother. 

”I’m glad you came, brother.” said her Hand, while offering a hand which was taken immediately, albeit somewhat awkwardly. 

”I told you I’d come.” Jaime then approached the sovereigns and bowed. “Your Graces, I’m here to swear my pledge. As I told my brother, and I assume he told you, I have my reasons to abandon my sister’s cause. I have brought with me as many men as I could gather along the way, but I’m afraid they are not as many as were promised.” There was a defeated look in his eyes, and to his credit he seemed ashamed as he admitted to the deceit of Cersei’s promises. 

”So you accept my claim to the Iron Throne?” asked Dany. He nodded his agreement. “And you surrender the Westerlands, officially?”

”Yes, I only ask for your understanding regarding the issue I conveyed to my brother by letter.”

”If you keep your end of the bargain, we’ll keep ours, as far as possible.” Jon assured him.

As Ser Jaime unsheathed his sword the men in the room instinctively reached for their own weapons, but as he went down on one knee it became clear what he was about to do. He spoke the words that pledged his support and that of his house to Houses Targaryen and Stark, accepting Daenerys and her descendants as rulers of Westeros. The man who had broken his oath to protect his King, her father. The man who _had_ killed her father and failed to protect the rest of her family, who had conspired against Jon’s family, who knew what else the man had done? No matter how many times Tyrion told her that he had avoided a tragedy in King’s Landing by murdering her father, no matter that the lady knight Brienne of Tarth had vouched for his character, he was still and would always be an oathbreaker. But they needed any men they could get, and for some reason she believed there were no ill intentions behind his coming North.

”I accept your pledge, and bring you and your descendants under the protection of my house.” Dany rose from her chair and approached him, Jon close behind her with his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Rise, Ser Jaime. I sincerely hope this is an oath you _will_ keep.”

”I intend to, your Grace.” 

”Lord Tyrion, please help your brother and his men settle down. It’s almost night and we should take the road come dawn. Be sure there are no delays.” Jon ordered her Hand, then dismissed the rest of the crowd assembled. He looked pensive, sitting with a horn of ale in front of him as the hall became silent. “Ser Barristan, what do you think?” he asked the commander of her guard.

”That man is a shame to knighthood, he always will be and yet this does not seem to be the same Jaime Lannister I once met. I think he is broken.” the old man said, sounding almost saddened. “I don’t know if it was the loss of his hand or everything that has been happening to him ever since but I haven’t seen him so sad since…” he suddenly stopped and looked at Dany.

”Since when, Ser Barristan?” now she was curious.

”He always showed himself more arrogant than he actually was, that is for sure. Sometimes I wondered if it was some way of coping with things, putting up a strong face. He usually stood guard by your mother’s door, Your Grace. Sometimes he looked like that… after your father had visited her… defeated and broken.”

”I see.” Daenerys knew how her father had behaved towards her mother in the end, that he would force himself on her after burning someone and would hurt her. Ser Jaime had pitied Queen Rhaella. Dany did not know if she should feel relief that someone had cared about her mother or angry that he didn’t do anything to protect her, in fact no one had moved a finger to keep her from harm. All those famous, noble knights just stood watch while…

”Thank you, Ser Barristan. That will be all.” and she sat beside her husband, taking the horn of ale from his hand and taking a sip of the bitter drink her husband favoured.

”This was not what I expected. In my mind I had imagined myself screaming at him, accusing him, but I couldn’t do it! Am I getting softer, Jon?”

”No, I felt the same. I pity him, somehow. Ser Barristan was right, he looks like a broken man. Maybe he lost his purpose and is trying to regain it. I cannot fault him for that, although I cannot forgive him for the part he played in the destruction of my family.” he sighed deeply. “You know, the first time I saw him I was so impressed with him. I thought he looked like a King. I was a fool.”

”You were young so I’ll forgive you.” she said. “But only if we’ll have our meal in our room tonight. I’m exhausted.”

”You don’t have to ask twice, let’s go.”

Her sleep was fitful that night, and so was Jon’s. He was probably having one of his wolf dreams. He had tried explaining to her what happened but it still sounded strange to her that he somewhat left his body and lived in his direwolf’s skin, sometimes for hours. At times, she could see his pupils moving restlessly behind his closed lids, but others, his entire body would shake, waking her up. She had dreamt again of the man with silver hair and grey eyes, although she couldn’t remember what he said to her this time. She was afraid she might be going mad, but at the same time the dreams gave her hope.

She woke up as the first wisps of clarity appeared in the sky. It was not yet dawn and the castle was still, but she knew it wasn’t long until Jon’s squire or Missandei would knock on their door telling them to be ready. She could feel Jon hard against her back, though he slept soundly. If she woke him there would be enough time for him to take her before it was time to face the day. She turned around to face him and kissed him lightly on the lips until he stirred, feeling almost guilty for disturbing his rest.

”Is it time already?” His voice was full of sleep and his eyes remained stubbornly closed. 

”Not yet, my love. But it will be soon,” she caressed his face with her hand and kissed him again, for longer. “I thought you might want to take advantage of what might be our last moments in a proper bed for a long time.” he opened his eyes and she smiled at him. He was fully awake now.

”Oh, I see.” Jon pulled her closer by the waist and kissed her. “It’ll be awhile before we are again between thick stone walls with a warm hearth, and a real bed.” 

”Better not lose any time, then.” She pulled herself up and, with sudden courage, braced against the cold, removing her shift and small clothes. He sat against the headboard and did the same, waiting for her to return to his embrace. She straddled his waist and they kissed passionately, letting their hands roam wildly across their bodies. He moved to kiss her breast, sucking at it like a babe, making her suddenly gasp. 

”Did I hurt you?” asked Jon, suddenly worried. 

”They’re still sore from yesterday. That feels nice, though.” he was leaving sweet kisses where he had just practically bitten her and was caressing her breast with his hands, cupping them softly. 

”I think the North agrees with you, my lady.” he said while lightly squeezing them, making her moan. 

”Is that so? Why do you say that?” asked Dany.

”I’m pretty sure they’re heavier” he answered, motioning as if weighing her breasts.

”Are you saying they’re droopy?” said Dany, feigning offence and removing his hands.

”I’m saying they’re big, and I like it.” Jon took hold of them again and buried his face in between. She loved how playful he was in his intimacy. None of her previous lovers had been anything like this. Strange if one thought how serious and brooding the King in the North usually showed himself in public. It was as if she was married to two different men. 

Dany giggled and pulled him by his hair for a kiss. Before she knew it he turned her to lay on her back and settled between her thighs. He pressed his forehead to hers, as he had done so many times before, and whispered “I love you.” 

In that moment, the rest of the world disappeared with all her worries. “I love you too, Jon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Next chapter will take a while as I will be traveling in the next two weeks.


	12. Barristan IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party travels North on the King's Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm finally back. 
> 
> I'm still in awe at the reception of the last chapter, I can't thank enough the kudos and the comments so many people left. 
> 
> Thanks as ever to my lovely beta-reader iia_ao3ac. 
> 
> This is a traveling chapter, so fairly quiet. I hope you enjoy it though as it's important to set up what happens later.

# If There Was a Man

### Barristan IV

_I feel old_ , Barristan told himself at least thrice every day. At some moments he thought he was not going to be of any help in this war, but he could not stay away from the fight at a moment when everything, their own existence, was at stake.

The road to Winterfell seemed never ending, and the worst part was that so far there were no keeps or towns along the way where they could rest. When he was a young man, he would not even think of such comforts but now his old bones had started bothering him and a bed roll offered little relieve after a hard day’s riding. They did not bother putting up tents and pavilions most of the days, sleeping instead in the open air under heavy pelts, sheltered from the frost by the horses they rode during the day and by the fires they lit. The only silver lining was that, despite the snow flurries, the road remained fairly clean. Centuries of salt had made sure that it remained frost free for most of the winter and no grass would grow during summers. As such, they kept a decent pace without tiring the horses. There was rush to reach Winterfell but many of the men, including most Unsullied, could not ride. Therefore it had become necessary to divide the forces in two. At the front rode the King and Queen with half of the Dothraki and Westerosi riders. In the back, delayed by several days, travelled those on foot, beasts of burden, and carts carrying more supplies from the south, along with the rest of the riders protecting them. 

Though the days were getting shorter, they seemed endless to Barristan. They would stop every once in a while to rest their rides and themselves, eating some quick meal before pressing on. The landscape changed little, endless snowy fields were all around them, interspersed with patches of wood. The North was a frozen and desolate realm and all but the Northerners seemed to be affected by the weather and the scenery both.

”Ser Jaime” Barristan greeted his former sworn brother, who was sitting on a low stone eating some hard bread with broth. So far the two had only exchanged a few words but Barristan was curious to speak with the man. Their relationship had never been completely smooth, despite years of close proximity, but now they found each other on the same side again and Barristan saw a change in the lion’s demeanour that pleased him somewhat.

”Ser Barristan” the younger man said, lowering his chin in greeting. “What brings you to the side of the unworthy?”

”I thought you had given up on your sarcasm. I’m not here to spite you, I thought you would welcome my company but if I’m wrong I’ll be on my way.”

Jaime seemed taken aback, as so often these days. “Not at all, please stay. Old habits are hard to put down.”

”Hopefully not all, I thought the reason you were here was because you wanted to break with the past.” Barristan paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I had meant to talk to you before but didn’t know how. I will not pretend that I’ve forgotten everything you’ve done but I know a lot of things have happened since last we saw each other and I understand the world is not as simple as I once viewed it. What I mean to say is that you have done right in joining the battle for the North. You have broken your vows once but you can still keep true to the oath you once swore and live the remaining of your life honourably if you choose to.”

”I have broken more than one oath, of that you can be sure. And changing sides is not going to change the way others see me. If anything I am proud of having broken my oath to protect Aerys. And don’t give me that look, I am being honest. I am not proud of a lot of things I’ve done, but that is an exception. Maybe if I had killed him sooner I would have spared the world more suffering.” 

”Perhaps you are right, but we can never go back to change what we have done. We can only strive to do better next time. Daenerys, she is not her father, of that I can assure you.”

”You mean, you don’t think her mad. But even if you did, what would that change? You would still be loyal to her as you were to Aerys until the end. Even while he was burning people alive or raping and beating his queen.” There was a great bitterness in his voice. Jaime was not wrong, Barristan and the rest of the King’s Guard had stood by while he grew madder by the day and had done nothing. 

”I served Aerys because it was my duty, not because I chose him. I chose her, though. And I would choose her again and again. At first when I met her I thought her much like Rhaegar but I’ve come to realize she is much more like her mother. She has that same resilience and hope. I have come to see there is no hint of madness in her.”

”I hope so, for all our sakes. And I wish her a better fortune than Rhaella’s. I wish I could have done more for her. She was always kind to me, until the very end.”

”And Elia? And the children?” asked Barristan.

”I wish I could have saved them. I didn’t know what was going to happen, I didn’t think that… _I did not_ think, and then it was too late. It is too late for me, but I can still do something to help those who come after us.” In a clearing in front of them stood Daenerys and Jon looking at the dragons circling above them. Jaime’s brows furrowed when he saw them and then shook his head. 

”What is it?” asked Barristan. Jaime’s expression was one of confusion and awe.

”Life is full of wonders. I never thought I’d see dragons, but here they are. Never thought I’d see another Targaryen in my life, and I find myself serving one again. I never thought I’d see a dragon and a wolf together, not after what happened, but here they are wed. But most of all, strange as it may seem, I never thought I would again set eyes on Jon Snow, and here I am following him after having sworn fealty to him and Daenerys.”

”You had met him already? From when Robert came North?”

”Yes. The bastard of Winterfell was kept mostly hidden. Ned apparently heeded to Catelyn’s request, as not to offend the court and Royal Family. As if!” Jaime gave a snort. Barristan wasn’t so sure Ned had kept him to the side to please his wife, or for fear some southerner recognizing something of Rhaegar (hidden as it were) in the boy. 

”How was he back then? I’m curious.” 

”Not much different from what he is now, except he’s far more self-assured these days. He was a shy, solemn youth. I made fun of him, wanting to join the Watch, he thought it such an honour. I didn’t pay much attention to him besides that.” _Of course you didn’t, that was the idea._ “Is he really as good with a sword as the rumours go?”

”Ah, there are rumours already?” chuckled Barristan.

”You know how people are.”

”I haven't seen him in a battle field, although I have no reasons to doubt the accounts of those who have. Besides, I have seen him spar against Dothraki screamers, Unsullied soldiers, Westerosi knights, I have sparred with him myself. He is far more than merely good. I should know, don’t you think?”

”I guess it must be true then, that his mother was Arthur’s sister?”

_Again the same rumour,_ thought Barristan. He wondered who had started it but it certainly seemed to have served its purpose. “No” he answered simply, not leaving any space for further questions. 

”What in the name of the Seven does he think he’s doing. Is he out of his mind?” Jamie had risen suddenly and was looking distraught as the King quietly stroked Rhaegal’s snout under the Queen’s loving stare. 

”Oh, you hadn’t seen them together yet, had you? Don’t look so surprised. There is more to Jon Snow than meets the eye, you should have realized that by now.” If only the King would risk climbing onto the green dragon’s back, Barristan thought the beast would accept him. It would be a powerful weapon to wield in this war. That moment, he wished he could just tell them the truth but he knew it would be a mistake. They would think age was getting to him. Barristan rose and clapped a hand on Jaime’s shoulder, glad to feel more comfortable in his presence than perhaps ever since the rebellion. Small mercies.

He approached the Queen and King as soon the Rhaegal had again risen in the air. “We should get going, Your Graces. We can still make some road before nightfall.”

”I would prefer if we stopped here for the night to make camp properly.” said Jon.

”Jon, I told you. I’m fine, there’s really no need.”

”There is. I’d rather waste a little more time than have you fall ill.”

”I never fall ill, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” answered Daenerys.

”Exactly. One more reason for you to rest. You are not used to this weather and neither are your men. Ser Barristan, tell them to raise the tents and make fires for the night.”

”Are you not well, Your Grace?” Barristan had noticed she seemed uneasy for a few days, but with such weather conditions it was no wonder. Now that he saw her up close he couldn’t help but notice she looked paler than usual. Maybe the King had reasons to worry.

”I said I’m fine!” she answered irritated, turning on her heels and leaving them standing there.

”What is the matter, Your Grace?”

”I don’t know, she doesn’t tell me. Missandei is also at a loss, but there’s something not quite right, that much is clear. I’d be more at ease if she could have a quiet night for once. Raise the pavilion but prepare the secondary tent, like I told you.” With a camp raised, it was far easier for someone with ill intentions to slip through unnoticed. Although Jaime appeared true to his word, the same could not be assured for the men following him. Who knew if one of them was not there to try and kill the Dragon Queen. Surely Cersei would be generous with such a man and it might be enough to tempt someone into trying. Barristan had arranged with the King that whenever they raised tents the royal couple wouldn’t actually be sleeping in their pavilion. They would enter it and then exit quietly for a non-descript canvas nearby. They would be less comfortable but far safer. Only those closest to the Jon and Daenerys knew about the deception. “Oh, and have some of the men form hunting parties, I might even join them. Fresh meat will be welcome for the rest of the trip.”

”So it shall be done, Your Grace.” 

The King left in the direction the Queen had previously taken, probably to try and calm away her ill moods. The King had been right, it was not just his wife who could use some rest. There was obvious relief in the eyes of all when they started preparing the camp and the roasted game later that night improved the general mood. Come dawn they broke camp and set foot on the road, yet again. Barristan made sure to pay more attention to the Queen, the rest had apparently done everyone good except her. Despite her reassurances, she seemed to be queasy and as the days went by it was not just the King noticing. Ser Jorah tried to convince her to fly to Winterfell but it was no good. She would not even fathom arriving alone, by dragon, to the capital of the North. She was right, to be honest, but the strain of the travel could be seen weighing on her. 

They had been on the road for fourteen days now, with the cold growing sharper and the snows deeper. The terrain had shifted, gone were the endless plains and now they were trekking through hills and valleys. The trees had also become more present in their surroundings. Far ahead of them they could see a sea of trees growing ever wider, the beginning of the Wolfswood. They should not be far from Castle Cerwyn, the first keep since Moat Cailin and the last before reaching Winterfell. They were close to their destination, and yet this was a dangerous part of the trip. The wolves that gave name to the forest roamed it in great packs. Barristan could only hope that the northerners amongst them, chiefly the King, would lead them safely through the wilderness. 

”We should be sleeping tonight in Castle Cerwyn, if I’m not much mistaken.” Tyrion Lannister rode up next to him. The man was surely even more desirous of a bed than Barristan himself. Even with a special saddle, it was obvious how physically difficult it was for the dwarf to withstand the long days of ride. “I think I would be willing to sell my left ear for a bed if it took us much longer.”

”Aye, it will be good to be between four walls, once again.” returned Barristan.

”And wine, or even ale if that’s all they have. Casterly Rock for a barrel of anything that might knock me out.”

”I’m sure the lady of the house is ready to receive her King.”

Right in front of them Jon suddenly signalled the march to stop. It was a queer place to rest, almost at the top of a small hill with wood to each side of them. The King turned around and raised a finger to his lips, indicating silence. Barristan immediately reached for the pommel of his sword, wondering if it was some sort of ambush. But the King had a rare smile on his face, so similar to Rhaegar’s it filled his heart with melancholy. 

”Quiet your horses and don’t come near until I say so.” The King dismounted and walked several yards in the snow. “To me.” he said quietly but with a strong voice.

Like an arrow, a huge beast started from the wood, silent and white as the moon, coming to a stop by the King.

”Mother’s mercy, how it’s grown” Tyrion whispered next to him. “That’s Ghost, the King’s direwolf. The last I saw him was barely more than a pup. Nearly gave me a heart attack once!”

All around them whispers of wonder and fear spread through the company. All trying to take a look at what was happening but too afraid to come closer. Now he could understand the stories told of Stark Kings riding to battle on their direwolves, this one was the size of a horse. Barristan thought he had never seen a more beautiful creature in his entire life. 

The King had buried his face in the white fur, greeting his companion of years after a long separation. Finally, he turned around and called to his wife.

”Daenerys, it’s alright. You can come!”

The Queen dismounted her black mare and walked slowly, even fearfully, towards them. Carefully, she put her hand forward. The great direwolf looked in her direction and quietly approached, looking her directly with huge eyes, red like blood. He towered over her small figure. Ghost sniffed her hand, then her arm, then her face, looking at her as if he already knew her somehow. Barristan was in awe at how such a wild beast could appear so delicate. Close by, the Queen’s bloodriders had reached for their bows, as if afraid the direwolf might hurt her. The beast could smell their fear, and turning his head in their direction bared his sharp fangs in warning. Jorah quickly told them in Dothraki tongue to put down their weapons but, for a short moment, Barristan was afraid of what might happen. 

”Let it be known that any man who tries to hurt Ghost is dead! Do you hear me?” warned the King sharply.

The great direwolf dropped his head onto the Queen’s shoulder and she passed her arm, tentatively at first, around his neck. The King approached them both and smiled. “Good, now we can move on.” He helped the Queen to her mare before climbing onto his own mount. “Ghost, with me” and slowly the party moved once more, still in awe at what they had just witnessed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! We are getting closer and closer to Winterfell ;) Do let me know your thoughts in the comments.


	13. Jon III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party reaches Castle Cerwyn, unexpected things happen, some things become clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I know this took a really long time, but here's the new chapter. It had a few problems but luckily my beta iia_ao3ac was a great help by pointing out what worked and what not.  
> Just a minor note on this chapter, the head of house Cerwyn is Lady Jonelle like in the books, not her brother as in the tv series (though I doubt anyone remembered him).  
> I hope you enjoy!

# If There Was a Man

### Jon III

”You can leave the pails here, we can manage.” said Jon to the maids who carried the hot water for their baths. They left them by the tub in front of the fireplace in their bedroom in Castle Cerwyn and made to leave the room. He could hear them giggling uncontrollably as soon as the door closed. 

”That wasn’t very subtle” said Dany, laughing. 

”I couldn’t wait to be alone with you.” He kissed his wife deeply as his hands drifted along her curves, aware that they were truly alone for the first time in several weeks. They had stolen kisses and caresses here and there, and they did even more under the disguise of night or inside the little tent that had served them as shelter sometimes, but it was not the same. They only shoved away enough of their clothes to allow him entrance, or merely slid a hand inside each other’s smallclothes to give some relief to their desires. And they had to hush, not move much and be quiet so as not to wake the rest. Jon was sure some of the guards must have noticed their antics under the furs, but they at least had the grace of looking the other way. It reminded him of his time with the wildlings, in a way. 

”Let’s take these clothes off” she said breathlessly. 

He poured more water in the tub and she entered it as soon as she had removed all her clothes, settling with a sigh. “I think the water is still too hot for you, my love.” 

”Let me see” he put his hand in, taking his time to appreciate the view of her body underneath the water, with her breasts peeking out of the surface. “It’s hot, but not too much. In Winterfell the water comes out much hotter from the pipes. Robb and I once took wagers who could stand the hotter water and I won. Father wasn’t too happy though.” In fact his father had been furious, it was one of the worst scoldings they ever got from him. She must have realized that his mind had wandered off because she took his hand in hers, his burnt hand, and kissed it softly.

”Come in then, I’ll wash your hair.”

He took out the rest of his clothes and entered the tub, sitting on the space between her legs with his back to her. She lathered his hair with soap and massaged his skull gently before rinsing. He reached for a cloth to wash himself but she took it from him. “No, let me.” She first washed him back, kneading his tense shoulders until he relaxed. “Now lay back against me.” He did as she told him, happy to lay his head next to hers. She washed his arms then worked her way through his chest, mindful of his many scars, down to his abdomen. His body was responding to her the way it always did, he could feel himself getting harder even though she hadn’t even touched him there. Her hands moved along his groin, over his thighs and then, finally, she swiped over his balls and cock. “Now it’s my turn” she whispered in his ear. 

”You devil of a women, now you stop?” she only giggled at his comment, before moving front to occupy the same place he formerly did. She dipped her hair in the water to wet it, then Jon carefully worked the soap on her tresses, running his fingers through to remove any knots. 

”I could stay like this forever, you know?” he told her, as he used a cup to rinse her hair. She wrung it and put it up in a bun, then leaned onto his chest, placing a kiss on his jaw.

”So would I. I wish we did not have to fight this war or any other war. I wish we didn’t have the responsibilities we do, that we could live a simple life” she said longingly. He hugged her and gave her brow a kiss. _I wish we weren't king and queen_ , he thought, _everything would be easier if we could just run away._ But they could not. 

Jon picked the washcloth and the soap and washed her back, before pushing her flush against his chest and washing her front. His hands moved to her breasts, massaging them carefully as he knew they were sore, the reason for which left unspoken but always present between them. _When we reach Winterfell we’ll know for sure._ He kissed her neck while his hands travelled south, down her legs, one by one, in between her toes, then up again. His hands settled on her inner thighs, moving further down to grab at her ass until she clasped her legs close together, grinding against him and moaning at the feeling. The vision from his vantage point was incredibly arousing, with her full breasts surfacing with each humping movement. “Don’t stop Jon.” He didn’t intend to, he knew she would come soon, but a selfish part of him wanted him to be inside her when she did.

He used his knees to pry open her legs again and his hand moved up again, his fingers travelling slowly through her middle, as if combing through her curls. From the sounds escaping her lips she was thoroughly enjoying his attentions. “Do you like that?”

”Yes!” was the only answer she could provide him with. Her eyes closed shut as she bit her lower lip. He used his fingers to open her folds, moving between them, pressing slightly around her bud and reaching her entrance, but without going inside. “Oh! Please Jon!” 

He suddenly had an uncontrollable wish to take her from behind, sitting on his lap. In the beginning of their relationship, she had asked him to take her on all fours, wanting to substitute the bad memories in her past with good ones, but taking a woman that way didn’t hold much interest to Jon. He had far more interest in what she had in front than on her backside, shapely though it certainly was. During the travel north, laying side by side under the furs, there was not much choice but to take her from behind, but it was different. At least he could hold her close to him and kiss her while they did it. She seemed to enjoy it greatly. Had they been alone, he thought he could even manage to latch onto to her breast with his mouth, the way he liked it. _We should try it when we get the chance_ , he thought lasciviously. At that moment though, in the tub, with her wriggling on his lap, he felt a true urge to take her this way. ”I want to have you like this. Here, in this position” he whispered in her ear. He could already imagine looking over her shoulder to watch her breast bouncing as they moved together and he wanted to try and find with his cock that place inside her that pleased her so much when he touched it.

”Yes, oh yes!” She pushed his lips to her, giving him a hungry kiss while her hand snaked in between their legs to pull him to the front. The water was too murky for him to see anything, and he wanted to see everything.

”Wait, wait. Let’s do this in clean water.” Thankfully, they had been given enough water for two baths.

She released a disappointed sound but moved so that he could get out. He opened the plug in the bottom of the tub and started filling the empty buckets. Jon could see she was getting cold inside, her skin getting bumpy as the water drained. He added more water, but it had been getting cold while they were bathing so he scooped some searing water from the cauldron in the hearth, which gained him satisfied sigh from her. “That’s enough water, we’re going to make a mess anyway.” She told him with a mischievous look on her eyes and pulling him back in.

He took his place again behind her and she lifted herself to his lap, her legs spread open around his own. They snaked their heads to kiss, deeply and hungrily, while he fondled her breasts. His hard manhood pressed against her slit and she rolled her hips against it. The view alone was enough to almost drive him over the edge. She adjusted her position in his lap and he entered her slowly, thrusting shallowly. Soon she pressed her head to his shoulder and gave a moan, he had found the place he was searching for. One of his hands hovered lightly over her nub while the other kept cupping her breasts as they heaved with each thrust. Her breathing became shallower and shallower until she suddenly she arched her back and released a series of loud cries.

“Ah, fuck! Oh Jon, ah ah!” She hardly ever swore, even in the throes of passion, so he knew she had completely lost her control. In fact, she was so loud he was sure the rest of the keep must have heard her, but Others take them. They were husband and wife, king and queen! Inside their chambers they could do as they very well pleased.

They were moving in tandem together, drawing more and more pleasure from that moment. She pushed herself down, drowning him inside her in one single, fluid movement. Jon could feel her contracting around his hardness, stronger than ever, _too soon_. “Oh shit, Dany. I can’t take it much longer, slow down” he begged her.

”No, come with me.” Without waiting, she took purchase of his balls, massaging as she moved, her walls still contracting around him. It only took a moment and he was groaning and pouring his seed inside her. They laid back while they recovered their breath. At some point Jon’s arms had wound around her waist and she interlaced her fingers with his. 

”That was incredible” she said finally. He couldn’t help but smile at that, she was right. 

”It was not bad!” Jon answered in jest. She pinched his arm. “Auch, I was joking. It was fantastic. I never thought you would enjoy it this much, I guess we have to use this position more often.” 

”That _I_ would enjoy it this much? What about you? You seemed possessed!”

”You have that effect on me.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. Their fingers were crinkly from the water. “We should get out of this tub. Sooner or later Missandei will come to help you with your hair and still find us like this.” As she got out of the tub he wished they could continue, she was a vision with her body dripping from the bath.

They dried themselves with the towels that had been left for them and started dressing, knowing that they would have to attend supper later on. Dany sat on a low stool near the hearth, using the heat to help her long hair dry faster. He sat close to her in breeches and undershirt, towelling his own hair. He could image them growing old together like that, side by side. _May be Gods grant that we may._ That sort of wish had once been foreign to him, he who had seldom allowed himself to want anything, but now it seemed like the most natural thought in the world to want a future with her. The two of them and children around them, maybe even grandchildren one day. He wondered how they would look like. He guessed the dark hair of the Starks would overtake the Targaryen colour, but he didn’t know what his mother looked like. Maybe if she had light hair there was a chance for a babe with silver hair like Dany’s.

She broke his reverie by speaking to him. “A coin for your thoughts, husband.”

”You’ll be angry if I tell you, I promised not to speak of it.” Her eyes lowered to the floor to avoid his and her hands started twisting on her lap. 

”I promised I would see the maester once we reached Winterfell. I just don’t want you to be disappointed when it all comes to nothing.” She could feign indifference and annoyance as much as she liked, but he could see how much it affected her.

”How can you know it will come to nothing? Why do you put such faith in the words of that witch? I don’t want to fight with you anymore, I just want to understand why are you so afraid of admitting that you might be with child. I did not marry you to give me heirs, I married you because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my days with you, be they many or few. But if they come, if there’s any chance that we might have a child, then I’m going to cling to that hope.” He knelt before her so that he could look straight in her eyes. They were shining with unshed tears. 

”I think I might be turning mad, Jon. That this might be the first sign of the madness in my blood. That’s what I’m afraid of! I’ve heard of women who wish for a child so badly that they lose their moonblood, grow big, can even feel the child moving within them and it’s not true, it’s not real! What if it’s the same with me? I’ve missed my blood before, I told you, and it was nothing.”

”But you didn’t feel anything else back then, right?” she nodded. “And now you do. Besides, those women who feel the symptoms without being with child, they are absolutely convinced they are expecting. It happened with Lady Catelyn’s sister, who was married to Jon Arryn, more than once. I heard the rumours about it.” That woman surely was mad, from the stories Sansa had told him. It was not like Daenerys to cry but now the tears streamed from her eyes. He kissed them away and hugged her close. He shouldn’t have brought the subject up again, the last thing he wanted was to leave her upset. “Don’t cry, ha? You came out of a pyre unburnt with three living dragons and I came back from the dead, we _are_ impossible, why shouldn’t impossible things happen to us? And how can a dead witch possibly have any power over our lives?” She started laughing, at least her mood swings went both ways equally fast.

”You are right! But still, I don’t want to hope just to have my dreams shattered again. Understand that, my love.”

Jon nodded in agreement, he could respect that. At least she was not straight up denying the possibility like before. He brought his lips to her brow, sending a silent prayer to the Old Gods that he was right. 

They were brought back to earth by a knock on the door.

”It must be Missandei to help me” said Daenerys. “Wait a moment, please!” she finished cleaning her eyes and composing herself on the small dressing table. “I don’t want her to see me like this.” Jon went to open the door, keeping his dirk close just in case. Whatever person reaching their door would have to pass through the guards, but you never knew what enemies laid in the shadows.

He opened the door and his heart seemed to be ready to jump out of his chest, so fast it suddenly ran. “Arya!” That was all he could say before he caught his sister in his arms, lifting her and swirling her around as when they were children.

”I missed you brother” she said in his ear, hugging him so tight he could hardly breathe. He finally put her down, cupping her face between his hands. She was a woman grown but still very much his Arya. Her eyes held the same love and acceptance they always reserved for him, but were touched by a sadness they did not have before. 

”I missed you too, little sister! I thought I would only see you in Winterfell!”

”I couldn’t wait any longer, decided to surprise you.”

”You certainly did.” He was smiling so much his face was hurting. He happened to look at her hip and recognized the hilt in the scabbard. “You still have it! The present I gave you.”

”My Needle. ‘Stick them with the pointy end’, isn’t that what you told me? And I did, Jon. You saved me when you gave me this blade, in more ways than one.” Arya looked behind him and did a clumsy curtsey and Jon realized he had forgotten for a moment his wife was in the room.

”Where are my manners? Arya, it is my honour and pleasure to introduce my wife, Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. My Queen, this is my youngest sister, Lady Arya of House Stark.” and stepped back. He wanted those two to get along but didn’t want to force the situation. 

”It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Arya. I have heard much about you from your brother.” said Daenerys, extending her hand.

”I also heard much about you, while I lived in Braavos. But please, don’t call me Lady, Arya will do fine.” Arya answered, shaking Daenerys’ hand with inquiring eyes.

”You may call me Daenerys then, we are sisters now.”

Arya did not let go of her hand and looked straight into his wife’s amethyst eyes. “Tell me, Daenerys, do you love my brother?” her tone was almost threatening but Daenerys did not flinch.

”More than I thought I would ever love anyone.”

Arya’s face opened in a smile, as she cradled his queen’s hand with both her hands. “Good, I needed to hear it from your lips. You spoke the truth! But whoever hurts him, ever again, will not live to draw another breath. That includes you.” There was a terrible efficiency in his sister’s threat.

”Excellent” offered Daenerys in return, smiling innocently “that makes us two!” 

”Then you have my loyalty, good-sister.” Arya finally dropped Daenerys’ hand and went to lace her arm in his. “I think I like her, brother.”

_Crisis averted._ Jon could breathe easily again. “Good, now that we’re a happy family again, shall we prepare for supper?”

Lady Jonelle Cerwyn had prepared a simple but tasty meal for them that evening. Jon had known her his entire life, Castle Cerwyn being the closest keep to Winterfell. She was a homely and kind woman, now well-past her marrying age, who had unexpectedly found herself as head of her house. After her last brother had died trying to take back Winterfell along Stannis Baratheon, she had found herself forced to side with the Boltons for her own survival but when the loyalty of her house to the Starks was called by Jon and Sansa she had answered without hesitation. Now she was going to travel with her household to Winterfell for protection. It was the least they could do.

After supper everyone went to their respective rooms but Jon lingered with Arya. They had much to speak of but a lot was still left unsaid when they parted for the night. His heart ached at what she had gone through and wondered if her wounds would ever heal. The years had hardened her in a way he did not think possible, but she was still his little sister. Dangerous though she now was, she still had her sweetness and mischievous look. She was not lost, and if she were he would always bring her back. They also spoke of Bran, who worried Jon far more than Arya. He could not fully understand who, or what, his little brother was now. The last he had seen him he had been lying on a bed, broken. Now he seemed to know things no one else was privy to, things of the past and glimpses into the future.

”He’s still there, Jon. Bran is still inside, hidden. Sometimes there are little things, a playful look at something, an off comment here and there, that reminds us of the old Bran. But most of the time he just seems empty, as if all that he knows leaves no space for who he is.” Said his sister sadly. 

”Do you really think his knowledge will help us defeat the Others?” asked Jon grimly. 

”Sam seems to believe so. He’s really the only one who seems able to understand him. You know, it was Bran who told us you’d gotten married.” Jon cringed at that. If it was true that his brother had visions, he only wondered what he had seen happen between him and his wife. “Oh, by the way. I almost forgot to give you something. You asked us to select a gift, didn’t you?”

He had forgotten. “You brought something?”

Arya nodded. “Sansa didn’t want me to travel with it, said I could lose it but I thought you’d like to give your lady wife a present before reaching Winterfell. Sansa has more presents ready, though. I think she’s afraid Daenerys will set Winterfell alight if she is displeased with us, no matter what Bran might say to quiet her fears.” She removed a black velvet pouch from her purse and handed it to Jon. It was embroidered with a white wolf and a red three-headed dragon, _Sansa’s work,_ he knew.

He opened the pouch carefully and saw two hair combs and a pair of earrings with silver wolves engraved on dark stone. _It looks like dragonglass_. “Is this obsidian?”

”Yes, most appropriate, don’t you think? Bran said there’s a story behind them but wouldn’t tell us what. They will look beautiful on her, don’t you think?

He could only nod, they would. “It’s perfect, thank you for letting me have them.”

”You’re a King, Jon. And these were our grandmother’s! You have a right to them. When will you ever stop putting yourself down?”

_Probably never,_ he thought. He had grown up knowing he did not have the same rights as his siblings, knowing he would inherit nothing. It was probably imprinted on him till the end of his days, no matter how hard he tried to change.

When he arrived at the room there was a surprise waiting for him, Ghost was splayed in front of the hearth. His direwolf had only left Dany’s side when they had first came to the room. It was as if he could only trust her to Jon. Dany was still not completely at ease with him, but it was only a question of time before she got used to him. After all, it had also been like that with Jon and her dragons. Ghost lifted himself silently and come to Jon for a scratch behind his ears.

”Jon?” Dany asked sleepily from the bed.

”I didn’t mean to wake you, it’s already the hour of the wolf.”

”It makes no matter. Were you with your sister?”

”Aye, we had much to talk about. How did you like her?

”She’s just like you described her, fierce. But you didn’t say she was this beautiful!” _Arya horseface no more,_ he thought delighted. “You two look so much alike, the only thing different is the hair. Yours is wavy while hers is straight.” Jon had never thought about it.

”Has Ghost been here long?”

”He followed me in, there is no stopping him. Maybe now you’re back he’ll leave again. Have you ordered him to guard me?”

”No, he’s doing it of his own accord.” She was sitting on the side of the bed and Ghost’s great head was laying on her lap. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”

”Not really, but he’s left me dumbfounded a few times already. I didn’t tell you what he did when I went to make water in the wood before we arrived.” 

”You mean snarling at the guards and go with you?” Jon had thought the scene rather funny.

”No, what happened while I was in the wood. He just stood there, looking at me, inches from my face. I almost couldn’t do it! Then after I finished” she stopped, looking embarrassed “he went to the… puddle and sniffed it... he peed on it, Jon!” He couldn’t help but laughing out loud, imagining the situation. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny! He stuck his snout under my clothes and kept sniffing, like he was checking if I was smelly or something, then just kept rubbing himself on me. Almost threw me on the snow! I mean, he’s enormous!” She looked so flabbergasted telling the story he couldn’t stop laughing.

”Says the woman who rides a dragon. He was probably just hiding your smell from the other wolves. If you smell like a direwolf, no other beast will even try to come close. Don’t worry, he means well.” Jon sat by her side and kissed her cheek, giving Ghost another scratch for good measure. “I think I might even get a bit jealous, he seems quite taken with you! Maybe he thinks you are a better match for him than I am, after all you have almost the same hair colour.” She gave him a reproving look.

”I probably smell like you by now, is more like it. That’s why he likes me. I still can’t imagine how you can go inside of him sometimes.” 

In reality, his warging had been scaring him lately. Without knowing how, he sometimes slipped inside Rhaegal. The first times had scared the living daylights out of him, thinking he was falling or burning. In truth he couldn’t control Rhaegal, it was as if the dragon allowed him to stay within for a while, as if he took him for a ride, before forcing him to slip back out. He hadn’t confessed it to Dany, however, he didn’t know how to.

”Don’t think too much about it. I have something for you.” Jon took out the pouch and handed it to her. “I wanted to give you a present for our wedding, something from my family. I know it’s not much, but...” Dany opened the pouch carefully and slipped out the set. She did not speak for a while, simply running her fingers through the dark surface. _Maybe she doesn’t like it,_ thought Jon. “It’s dragonglass and silver. Don’t you like it? We can find something more to your tas...” he never finished the sentence as Dany was already kissing him. In fact there wasn’t much more conversation that evening, their lips were otherwise occupied. 

The wolf opened his eyes. He had not left to hunt that night, his belly was full and he had more important things to do, though he missed the freedom and he missed the thrill of the chase. He pawed over the den to where the man and his female were sleeping. _It is I,_ the wolf remembered. It was so easy to lose oneself, to lose your _self_ but he was learning. He was a wolf but he was also a man. He approached the female, his mate. She had pale hair like his, there was no one else like them. The wolf approached where she lay and pulled away the hide, which was not truly hers, to sniff her. The smells were always stronger, clearer when he was a wolf. She smelled of the man he was, she smelled of their mating, and something else. Something that told him she needed more protection as she would become easy prey. The thought of that raised the hairs in the back of his neck. Man or beast, it did not matter. She would be slower, get tired faster. That’s what pups did to their mothers as they grew. If she was his mate, that meant the pup or pups would be his. He licked her naked belly, to show his mate that he cared for her.

”What are you doing now, Ghost?” She asked, pushing the furs back to her. “Just because your master does certain things to me it doesn’t mean you’re allowed the same liberties.” He looked straight at her and she must have noticed she wasn’t talking to Ghost, not just him. “Jon?” He gasped for air, as if coming up from a dive. Both she and Ghost were looking at him, both sporting surprised looks. ”You scared me. Why did you do that for?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but I couldn’t stop myself.” He remembered what happened. _Should I tell her?_

”What’s going on, Jon. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I know why Ghost is acting differently with you.” He looked at the direwolf, head laying on the bed quietly, intelligent eyes that saw everything. He knew! 

”Direwolves… their sense of smell is much better that ours, even better than dogs I guess. They need it to track prey, but also to take care of the pack. That’s how they know when one of them is sick, or sad, or in heat. That’s why Ghost sniffed you, to know you.”

”I see, I guess.” She didn’t seem so sure, and the last thing Jon wanted to do was scare her with his warging.

”That’s why he went to smell you… when you went out to make water. You can tell a lot about someone from their… you know.” he ruffled his hair, he didn’t know how to tell her. “The piss of a female will smell differently from a male, an adult different from a pup, a deer from a auroch.”

”So, Ghost sniffed me to tell if I was a woman, is that it?”

”No, he sniffed you to know who you were. He could tell you were my female, my mate. That made you part of his pack too. But he could tell other things. A female in heat will smell different... as will a pregnant one, or a mother with pups.” He looked at her, to see if she knew where he was going with it.

She looked confused “What are you trying to tell me, Jon?” Her voice had caught in her throat. “What did he smell in me, tell me.”

“That you’re with child, he’s been trying to protect you because you are more vulnerable.”

”It can’t be… he might be wrong.” tears were streaming down her face.

”It is true, Dany, it’s not your mind playing tricks. I’ve had my proof while I was in Ghost. I could smell you and it’s real, there’s no denying it. Not anymore.”

She looked at him for a moment as if lost but then realization finally dawned on her and a smile broke through her tears. One hand went gingerly to her belly. He kissed her and covered her hand with his. “A child, our child.” She said, as if suddenly everything made sense. He nodded and kissed her again. “I should have known by now that whatever impossible thing you tell me is bound to be true! Oh Jon, you impossible man.”

Jon fell asleep still with a hand over her belly. That night, he dreamt of dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're closer than ever to Winterfell. I hope (if the chapter doesn't develop a life of its own and runs away to unusual places like this one did) that next chapter will bring a lot of emotions. 
> 
> Do leave a message with your opinion, they are highly appreciated!


	14. Daenerys IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Castle Cerwyn to Winterfell.  
> Family reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Let me start by thanking so much the comments in the last chapter. I'm amazed with the reception of this story! Thanks as well to by beta-reader iia_ao3ac.

# If There Was a Man

###  Daenerys IV

Castle Cerwyn was in a frenzy that morning. They were leaving for Winterfell and only a few soldiers would remain guarding the keep. Dany and Jon made their way to the solar where they would break their fast with Lady Jonelle and their closest entourage. She had no appetite, as usual, but she needed to eat. She had just accepted what her body and her heart had been telling her for a while, but it had taken Jon and Ghost to convince her that it was indeed true. She was with child, their child. She tried to quiet her fears, bury them deep inside her. Jon was right, who was that witch to control their fate? She had not been able to avoid her own death, after all. _If I look back I am lost._

As soon as they sat, a maid placed plates of runny eggs with bacon in front of them. Jon attacked them promptly, but Dany could not bear to even look at them. _I’m stronger than this, I have eaten a raw stalion’s heart and did not heave._ Instead of strengthening her, the memory made her feel worse. She moved the plate as far as she could.

”Would you like some toasted bread instead?” Jon asked her. “You should eat before we leave.”

”Just bread will be enough” she answered, taking a piece out of a dark rye loaf.

”I’m sorry, I will arrange something else for you to eat, Your Grace.” Said Lady Jonelle when she noticed the exchange.

”Really, there is no need my Lady. I’m still not fully accustomed with Westeros’ habits. I’m quite satisfied with this bread, it is most delicious.” It was true, bread was the only thing that seemed to sit well in her stomach and that one was mouth-watering.

”Nonsense! Begging your pardon, Your Grace. I’ll take care of it myself, it will only be a minute.”

”Lady Jonelle is well known for her skills in the kitchen, I’m sure she’ll prepare something nice for you.” Jon told her. 

Tyrion was looking inquisitively at them. “Are there any _developments_ , Your Graces?” he asked them in low voice, so as not to alert their companions, though she noticed Ser Barristan coming nearer.

”Maybe we can speak about this later, Lord Tyrion.” Answered Dany diplomatically.

”Of course, Your Grace. Lady Missandei, doesn’t Her Grace look quite serene today?” He asked his neighbour.

”Quite so, Lord Tyrion. And in excellent mood!” said Missandei, playing along. Her advisor had suspected for long and Dany had given her the good news that morning when she came to help her prepare.

”Thank you for the compliments. Now eat, you two, we have to leave soon.” Tyrion nodded at the comment and chuckled. 

Jon was speaking to his sister, probably giving her the news judging by the smile the young woman gave her. For now, only those closer to them would know about the child. 

The lady of the house was quickly back with a plate she put in front of Dany. It seemed full of some sort of flat cakes. 

”Sorry for the delay, Your Grace. Some ingredients were already packed to take to Winterfell. No use of leaving them here just to go bad, right? I’m taking them close to me now, I can prepare these for you on the road if you like.” Her voice took a lower tone. “Griddlecakes with cinnamon and candied ginger, it will help settle your stomach in the mornings.” 

Dany looked sharply at her, knowing that her secret was out. “How did you…?”

Lady Jonelle simply waved her hand “A young woman recently wed, let alone a Queen in need of an heir? It’s not hard to guess why she’s not eating properly. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone if that’s your wish. But I wouldn’t wait too long to tell the news. Some of the lords are not so happy that the King wed you and joined the North with your kingdoms. But when they know you’re expecting his child? They’ll fight fiercely for the little one, of that I can assure you. Those who are left may be a sour bunch, but they are loyal.”

”I’ll take your advice into consideration, my lady.” Dany took a bite at one of the cakes and released a satisfied sigh. “This is so good! Thank you.” And proceeded to devour the plate in front of her.

They were waiting to have their horses brought when someone arrived. He was a small man, with greying hair, all dressed in earthy tones, with a three-pronged spear on his back. He stopped in front of Jon and took to a knee.

”My King, I don’t think you remember me. The last you saw me you were perhaps eight?”

”Lord Reed! Please rise. How could I forget? You were very kind to me the last time you visited Winterfell. I remembered you asking me whether I would like to visit Greywater Watch but alas, I never did.”

”Aye” the man looked down. “I had a mind of taking you as a ward, but Ned wouldn’t part with you.”

”This is my wife, Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen.” 

”Your Grace! It is an honour to meet you. Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch.” He introduced himself.

”He was my lord Father’s friend.” She nodded, Jon had told her of the mysterious crannogmen. 

”I thought you don’t usually leave your keep, my Lord? We depend greatly on your house to hold the Neck.”

”My daughter can hold it in my absence. I haven’t left home for many years but duty calls, there are things I must do. Your brother has summoned me, Your Grace. It seems my presence is needed.”

”You will always be welcome at Winterfell, Lord Reed. I owe your family a great debt of gratitude, my sister told me about what your son and daughter did for Bran and Rickon, but especially for Bran. We can never repay your sacrifice.” Dany would have to ask them later what had happened, from her husband’s tone and the man’s reaction it must have been something important.

”There’s nothing to repay, my King.” His green eyes were sad as he looked straight into Jon’s eyes. Dany wondered what the man was trying to find.

The travel to Winterfell was running smoothly as they were protected from the worst winds by the trees of the Wolfswood. Everywhere they looked there were trees: oaks, soldier pines, sentinels, ironwoods, and rarely the disturbing sight of blood red leaves and pale bark of the weirwood trees. They reminded Dany of Ghost. At night, when they made camp, Jon ordered tents to be put up. He claimed that sleeping in the Wolfswood was more dangerous than in open ground, even though they had a fully grown direwolf and two dragons keeping them company. Dany asked herself whether that was an excuse to protect her at least during the last stretch of the trip.

That night would be their last on the road, if everything went well. By that time next day they would already be within the walls of Winterfell. 

”If I may be so bold, Your Grace, your lady sister is something else!” said Ser Jorah, who was on guarding duty to them that evening. 

Jon chuckled. Her good-sister was at that moment sparring with Grey Worm much to the enjoyment of the crowd that had gathered. She was very skilled indeed. She had fought with several fighters among their party during the past three days, and had seldom been caught off guard.

“Aye, she is. But the ladies of Bear Island are famed fighters themselves, you should be used to the sight.”

”That’s true, the she-bears are a bold lot. But so are she-wolves! Your aunt Lyanna was also quite the wild thing.” The knight recollected.

”I’m afraid my lord father never spoke of his sister.” Said Jon.

”I suppose it was too painful for him.” he sighed, as if remembering old days. “She could ride like the wind and she wasn’t one to be ordered about. But a beauty she was, a wild beauty. Your sister looks much like her, only the hair is different. Lyanna’s was curly like yours.”

At the comment a fleeting thought passed through Dany’s mind, but she quickly buried it.

”Aye, it was.” Said Howland Reed, who had just joined them. “But let’s not speak of the dead, not tonight.”

”What are you moping around again?” said Arya, back from her sparring session, to her brother. “I thought now that you have someone else other than me to cheer you up you’d stop with that nonsense. It’s good to share the responsibility, it was tiring and frustrating.” she told Dany, seating next to her.

”Oh, so he has always been gloomy, good sister?” asked Daenerys, amused with the conversation.

”Oh yes, he could be quite annoying. Though I can’t say he’s always been like this, I’m a bit younger.”

”I’m afraid our king was already born brooding.” declared Howland Reed.

”How can a babe brood, Lord Reed?” asked him Dany. “I find that hard to believe!”

”See that face he’s doing now?” She looked at her husband, he had his usual frown on, as if deep in thought. “The first time I saw him he was doing that. When I saw him years later, he was just a boy, he was still doing that. This is no jest, I assure you.” She realized why her husband seemed shaken, this man probably knew who his mother was. 

”I remember it as well. I came visit Lord Stark with my parents when he returned North from the war. My mother said she’d never seen such a serious looking babe.” Lady Jonelle ended with a good natured laugh. 

”Oh, but he must have been a beautiful babe. Indulge me, please.”

”Aye, he was a fine boy, Your Grace. Dark of hair, smart grey eyes, quiet. Robb was fine as well, he was always smiling, but he had the Tully look instead. Well, there’s no use in thinking of the past.” The lady did not have a drop of nonsense in her. Dany was becoming quite fond of her, and not just because every morning she was able to concoct something she managed to eat. When she looked at her husband again, he was looking closely at the crannogman.

”I will retire for the night, sleep well you all.” Dany said, rising from her seat. Ser Jorah escorted her to the tent, together with Ghost who would not leave her side when Jon was not present. Her husband had stayed behind, he need not tell her why. She knew he had to speak to Lord Reed. She settled in the small field bed but couldn’t sleep, not until Jon came back.

She heard the canvas open and sat up to see him. His face seemed livid at candle light.

”What is the matter?” she asked him worried.

Jon looked at her, brows knitted, and with a sad, strained voice said “She’s dead, Dany. My mother is long dead.”

He sat heavily next to her and she hugged him close. “I’m so sorry, Jon.” She didn’t ask him anything, wanting to give him space, but he spoke anyway after a while.

”I asked Lord Reed, he spent the entire war with father so if anyone knew it would be him. I had to ask him!”

”I knew you would. I saw it in your eyes.”

”At first he was surprised my father never told me anything. But then he didn’t tell me much either. He said… what did he say? The story is too long, sad, and complicated. He said the road is no place for him to tell me. He promised he would tell me everything in Winterfell, away from possible prying ears, he gave me his word. The only question I got him to answer was whether she was alive.”

”Tomorrow we’ll arrive, he’ll tell you. Then you can just move on. It doesn’t matter who she was, it only matters who you are!” she said truly. But she started being afraid that the story was a truly difficult one, the way that nobody seemed willing to talk about it. She had asked Ser Barristan as well, used as much influence as she could to have him tell Jon what he knew, but it was useless. The old knight would not open his mouth on the subject. And then, there was the dragons’ predilection for Jon that would not leave her mind.

”I know, but I feel like I need to know, that there’s a part of me that needs to be pieced together. Deep inside I had foolishly hoped that she was still alive somewhere.”

She helped him undress and held him close. After a while she knew he had fallen asleep. Ghost rose from his place at the end of the bed, looked at her, and after she nodded he left. _Jon is gone hunting._ She had quickly become accustomed with her husband’s unsettling nature.

Morning came and they took to the road again. There was a sense of relief that could be felt from Jon, Arya, and the men from Winterfell. They were coming home. 

Arya pulled her horse close to hers “We’re close already.” told her the young woman. “See that hill over there? Look ahead once we reach it, you’ll see Winterfell for the first time.” 

”I wish I could see it from the air, but I doubt arriving on a dragon would bring me much favour with the lords and ladies of the North.” answered Dany. Drogon and Rhaegal glided above them, maybe they had already spotted the capital of the North.

”I wish I could ride a dragon, I spent my childhood dreaming of the dragon queens of old, riding their dragons into battle.” Most of the times her good sister seemed older than her years, but at that moment, looking at the sky, she sounded like a child full of dreams. She could understand why Jon was so fond of her.

”I could take you for a ride one day. Drogon doesn’t like it, but he accepts travellers when needed.”

”I’ll hold you to that promise!” and galloped ahead of the group, maybe to be the first to behold her home.

Dany couldn’t wait to reach Winterfell as well. The days on the road were taking their toll and she felt tired. Maybe it was the babe or maybe it was the cold, she could not tell which. However, she knew there would not be much rest once they arrived. They would meet the heads of the Northern and Vale houses and from what Arya had informed them they were expected to pass the sentence for a traitor. 

Winterfell was indeed a great castle, as she had seldom seen in Westeros. There were high walls surrounding it and several towers on the inside. Jon had described it in great detail but he could not prepare her for the sheer size of it. He told her his ancestor Brandon the Builder had started building it, the same Brandon who had started the Wall. Some said he had the help of giants, Dany wouldn’t be surprised if he had. They left most of the troops to make camp on the fields close by since there was not enough space inside to house them all. Outside the walls, threads of smoke could be seen coming out of the chimneys of Winter Town. As they approached, the people started swarming the streets, eager to see the newcomers. She could hear whispers here and there. Words like King, and Queen, dragon, savages, wolf… She tried smiling at them but only the children smiled back. She checked her hair under the hood before removing it, to make sure the combs were in place. She was wearing Jon’s presents, proudly displaying to the crowd her bond to house Stark. They continued climbing the streets until they reached a square leading to a great gate.

”The East Gate.” Jon told her. The massive doors opened for them, followed by a drawbridge. Inside they could see a line of people waiting for them. There were cheers coming from the men stationed at the walls, welcoming the return of the King in the North, the White Wolf. 

They entered the courtyard and Jon quickly dismounted and helped her do the same. A tall young woman with auburn hair approached to meet them. Jon immediately hugged her, without waiting to introduce her. 

“Welcome back home, brother.” When she disentangled herself from her brother’s embrace she dropped a curtsy to Dany. “Welcome to Winterfell, Your Grace.”

Jon quickly introduced them and they shook each other’s hand. “It is good to be here, my lady.” Dany told her. Sansa did not have the same wild and effusive nature as Arya, the two sisters seemed as different as night and day in both appearance and behaviour.

Jon had already moved forward. He kneeled before what looked like a chair where a pale and thin young man, with the same hair colour as Sansa, sat. The Tully look people talked about now made sense to her. “Bran, I’m so happy to see you again.” He hugged his brother, who seemed to lack the energy to hug him back. 

”It’s good to see you again, Jon.” The young man took Jon’s face between his thin hands and looked at him closely, giving him a small smile. 

”Bran isn’t the same since he came back. I’m afraid his reception might seem odd to you, but it’s just the way he is.” Sansa told her apologetically. 

”I told her, Sansa. She knows.” said Arya, who had just arrived, before she greeted her sister.

”Daenerys, this is my brother Bran.” Jon told her, motioning her closer.

”It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Brandon.” she said, holding his bony hand.

”Welcome to Winterfell, Queen Daenerys Stormborn. I have been expecting you, we have much to talk about.”

There was something unsettling about the young man, as if he were both old and new, as if he looked right through her and pierced her very soul. She shivered, he reminded her of Quaith. 

Other introductions followed. Samuel Tarly, to whom she would have to speak soon, a maester, various other members of the household, and more lords and ladies than she could remember. In the evening there would be even more, she feared. Behind her, Missandei was dealing with the introduction of her own retinue. She noticed Tyrion and Sansa were speaking, apparently in a friendly manner. It was strange to think that her Hand was once married to her good sister.

”Shall we go inside the Keep? We should eat something and get some rest.” Jon said.

”I will have lunch set in the solar, we can eat quietly there.” Sansa gave instructions to the servants to install the newcomers then accompanied them as they walked through the courtyards and numerous passageways, until they reached a large building Dany understood was the Great Keep. “I was told you are to share the bedchamber with your husband, Your Grace. Is that correct?”

”Yes, of course. You can call me Daenerys in private” the young woman seemed uneasy “Please, I insist.”

”Very well, only if you call me Sansa.”

Dany didn’t warm up to her new good sister in the same way she did with Arya. Although Jon had praised her a number of times, she had understood from stories heard here and there, from Arya and from the northerners, that Sansa had scorned her brother when they were young because of the circumstances of his birth. She had been a stupid girl, probably much different from the woman now walking ahead of her, but she couldn’t shake the thought of such pettiness. If Dany had had such a brother growing up, she would have cherished him with all her heart, like Arya did.

They were shown to their quarters, the Lord’s chambers. There was a small solar that seemed to serve as partly an office, partly a drawing room, from which one could access a large bedchamber, and from there a dressing room and a privy. The rooms were comfortable and warm, in contrast to the harsh and cold exterior Winterfell’s exterior gave off. She touched the walls remembering what Jon had told her about, they radiated heat. Meena, a small plump woman, was to serve her as a handmaid, care for her clothes, help her with her dress and with her hair, and anything else she might need. Sansa had been busy preparing warm clothes for her to wear, including a heavy cloak in the northern style. Dany caressed the fabric and the delicately embroidered sigil of her house, and noticed the craftsmanship seemed to be the same as that of her husband’s and Arya’s cloaks. Whoever had made them, whether seamstress or tailor, must be very talented. She would have to speak to this person, as she would at some point need adjustments to all her clothes if all went well.

”They are beautiful, Sansa, thank you. I will surely wear them.”

”I’m afraid I will have to adjust the fit of the dresses. I didn’t have your measurements, only your approximate height from what Gendry told us.”

”You mean you did these yourself?” Dany asked surprised. Her good sister nodded in response. 

”I’ve always been good at sewing, I enjoy doing these for my family.” _Perhaps I have misjudged her_. A woman who spent precious time crafting garments for her family surely must cherish them deeply. 

”Did you also embroider the pouch that carried the jewels Jon gave me as a present?” Again, Sansa nodded. “It’s exquisite, you are very talented.”

Dany and Jon were left alone in the bedchamber to change into fresh clothes while lunch was being set for them in the solar. 

”And?” Jon asked her. “What do you think?”

”Which part?” answered Dany. In truth she was overwhelmed.

”Winterfell, Sansa?”

”Winterfell is just like you described it, but larger. I feel like I could get lost here.”

”I will show you around, you will get used to it quickly.” He looked at her waiting for her to continue.

”Sansa is not Arya.” she said finally, which resulted in a laugh out of him. “I’m not sure what to think of her.”

”She has gone through a lot and the way she deals with it all is keeping to herself and trusting no one who isn’t a Stark. Once you get to know each other I’m sure you’ll find you have a lot in common.” Dany hoped he was right.

Lunch was served just for the family and turned out to be a slightly awkward affair. Sansa was telling her brother and Dany of the latest news, which lords and ladies were at Winterfell, how was the preparation of new weapons using dragonglass going, the defences of the castle, as well as the resources, and showing any new scrolls. Arya admonished them for talking of such things in their first meal together and seemed to revel in annoying her sister. Bran stared at them, seemingly out of place, answering in single words to any question he was asked. She could see how Jon was affected by his brother’s behaviour, no matter how much he had prepared himself for it. The talk eventually moved to the nasty event that would take place in the afternoon.

”I don’t know why you couldn’t take care of it while I was away. It’s not like there was any lack of people who could pass the sentence or carry it out.” declared Jon.

”I would happily done it and even Sansa agreed with me, but Bran wouldn’t let us.”

”He still has a part to play. There are things he must confess and everyone needs to hear him.” Bran said.

”But why wait until we arrived? This is not how I had planned spending my first day in Winterfell.” Jon complained. “I thought I would be showing Daenerys around Winterfell, seeing how things are going. Resting a bit, for a change! We just travelled across most of Westeros and are preparing for war, is a bit of rest too much to ask for?”

”Besides, I don’t even know the man!” exclaimed Dany, although she had heard of him. Nothing but bad things, if truth be told.

”You and Daenerys needed to be here. There are things you should know, this is only the beginning.”

Jon and she would have to listen to an endless stream of accusations and rebuttals, and finally pass a sentence, their first public act together as rulers. And certainly Jon would have to execute him. _”He who passes the sentence must swing the sword”_ , her husband had told her. It was the northern way, she knew, but Jon deeply disliked killing. She had a feeling the entire affair would leave him in a depressed mood. It did not bode well for the feast her good sister had prepared for the evening. 

”Why don’t we talk about happier things?” asked Arya. “All this talk of treason is likely to give us a bout of indigestion. You have some news to tell, don’t you?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at Dany and Jon. Bran seemed to be opening his mouth “Don’t you dare spoil it!”

”I wasn’t going to!” For the first time there was some emotion coming out of her good brother, he seemed taken aback by his sister’s comment.

”You tell them, Jon.” said Dany, pressing her hand onto her husband’s.

”The pack is going to get bigger, Daenerys is with child.” he said.

”But… that’s wonderful! Congratulations” exclaimed Sansa, a true smile on her face. “That solidifies your position a great deal. Some of the houses were none too happy with your wedding, and less with having to side with house Targaryen, but if there’s a child on the way… they won’t have any excuses for giving their support. We can’t wait very long to tell them!” Sansa seemed to be in a frenzy, one could practically see the cogs turning inside her head. 

”I have yet to be seen by a maester to make sure everything is well.” She would not tell them of her fears, especially not Sansa. 

”But you know, don’t you?” Dany nodded in agreement. “Gods, I have to start taking care of the trousseau.”

”Sansa, aren’t you exaggerating? It’s much too early for that!”

”Of course it’s not early, Jon! This child will be heir to the seven kingdoms, you can’t expect your child to just wear anything! It takes time, and since Winter is here and we’re in the middle of a bloody war, two bloody wars, it’ll be harder to get the supplies necessary.” It was as if a different woman had taken over the body of Lady Sansa Stark. Although slightly scary, Dany liked this Sansa much better than the one she had initially met.

”I told you she’s weird” Arya whispered in her ear.

The Great Hall did justice to its name. It was filled with hundreds of people that afternoon, all waiting to see the King and Queen, hoping to catch sight of the accused, and maybe the execution. They entered in procession, along with her Queen’s guard, Northern men, Dothraki, and Unsullied. As they passed, men and women bowed and dropped curtsies, the looks on their faces ranging from fascination to fear. When they reached the dais there were chairs for them to sit along with Jon’s siblings. Jon and Dany stood side by side looking at the crowd, they nodded at each other, and Jon raised his booming voice, drowning all whispers. 

”My ladies, my lords. It’s good to be back.” There was stamping and cheers from some of the audience. “When I told you I would go south and answer to the Dragon Queen’s call you called me mad, fool, and worse I’m sure. Told me I wouldn’t come back alive!” There was laughter now, her husband knew how to grab an audience when that was his wish. “Well, here I am, and I brought you a Queen. Raise cheers for my wife, Queen Daenerys!” Despite the cheers of many of those present, she could see some faces looked less than happy. Nothing she was not prepared for. 

”My ladies, my lords.” Started Dany. “I’m afraid I don’t know all of you but I’m sure there will be time for that, and also for you to know me. Some of you are afraid and none of the words I might offer you can ease your fears. I am not my father, I know he was mad and I feel ashamed for what he did! So please, do not judge me for his deeds. I just ask you to give me time, allow me to show my value, just as your King did. He put his faith in me and I in him, that is why I came North to help with the war against the Others, why I brought my forces and my dragons with me instead of taking the throne directly. That is why I have bound my life to his and my house with house Stark through marriage. And I give you my word, on my life, that I will fight by your side with every fibre of my being until we have won this war!”

”All hail the King and Queen!” cried Lord Manderly. He had travelled with the supplies by boat and sleigh and had managed to arrive two days in advance. Many voices joined his acclamation, though not all. He seemed to have noticed the same for he continued theatrically. “House Manderly stands by you, Your Graces! There are no others I would rather fight along with. To the White Wolf and the Dragon Queen! Long be their reign, many be their children, long be their summers!” More of the crowd joined him. Now there was a man who could shift opinions. Dany noticed that Tyrion and Davos were smiling satisfied at one another as Lord Manderly approached the dais and made a show to shake Jon’s hand and kiss Dany’s.

”Thank you, Lord Manderly.” Said Dany.

”Remember what you promised me?” asked the fat lord.

Dany laughed. “I do, and I _will_ have my dance!”

”O-ho!” The man wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Now, if I may be sold bold, Your Graces? Can we take care of the little shit?” There were cries of support from the crowd.

”Bring him in” ordered Jon. They took their seat in the high chairs and the doors opened. The prisoner, a small weasel-faced man with a mocking smile, was dragged by two guards and made to kneel in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not sorry) about the cliffhanger ;) Let me know what you think!


	15. The Condemned Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long expected sentence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter ended in a bit of a cliffhanger but wait no further! This new chapter is going to solve a lot of questions. Thanks for all the comments and kudos left in the previous chapter and thank you to my beta reader iia_ao3ac as always.

# If There Was a Man

### The Condemned Man

When he was thrown in the dungeons he thought his life was hanging by a thread, that any moment someone would come and take him to be executed. But that moment never came and he knew that could only mean good news. They couldn’t just execute a lord like him! Even though they managed to fool him into confessing some things. _She_ had fooled him into confessing. Her betrayal had tasted bitterer than anything else. He had taught her to play the game and she had played him right into a trap. She, whom he had planned crowning as Queen, she whom he actually had loved. Still, she had not woven her web as well as she thought if he was still alive after so much time. The lords of the Vale must have interceded in his favour. Or maybe Robin, the useless shit. He had not been allowed any visitors and all his meals were brought by either Arya or Sansa. He had made himself sick to try and free himself from that hellish hole. Instead of taking him to the maester they had sent a fat boy to care for him and he thought he was in luck, that he could lure him into helping him. As it turned out the man, a fucking Tarly no less, was absolutely loyal to the Starks.

That day there was noise coming from the outside. He could not make out what they cried, but there was a great commotion. He could feel the vibration as horses and carriages passed by. That day they had brought him fresh clothes to wear. “Get dressed, the King and Queen wish to see you.” said the guard, who was gone before he could try and ask him anything. _King and Queen?_ Did the fucking Bastard manage to get himself married to the dragon girl? Or maybe someone else took the crown. He dressed himself quickly, perhaps that was to be the day his luck would change.

But the guards shackled his wrists and dragged him along. His eyes had grown unaccustomed to the light of day and he went blind for a few moments as they yanked him through the courtyard. There were offences being shouted at him and people tried to grab at his clothes, people he could not clearly see. People who threatened to kill him, quarter him, disembowel him, bugger him with hot irons. The guards had to keep them away, or they would make good of their threats. As his vision cleared, he beheld the banners hanging from the battlements, the wolf of the Starks and the dragon of the Targaryens. _The boy got himself a dragon to mount._

The doors to the Great Hall opened, it was full of people. Eyes were focused on him, eyes that would kill him if they could. Still, he could not show the despair that was eating at him. The man smiled, as if he were in control of everything. They could have killed him already but they hadn’t, that had to mean something. He looked upon the dais. The Bastard was there, sitting on the high chair of the lord of Winterfell. By his side sat a small beauty, silver of hair. The dragon queen, no doubt. And then there was Sansa, the deceiver, Arya, the freak, and Bran, the crippled creep. In front of them lay the white direwolf, his murderous red eyes burning like embers. To one side he saw the knights of the Vale. Their faces set in stone, no help was to be found there. To the other an odd assembly of foreigners, the Onion, and the Imp.

The guards made him kneel. “Petyr Baelish, you stand accused of most serious crimes. I have been informed that you have confessed, as several here bore witness, to have conspired to have Lord Eddard Stark imprisoned, to have aided in the downfall of House Stark, to killing Lady Lysa Arryn, amongst other offences. The punishment for such crimes is death. Do you have anything to say to that?” The Bastard asked him.

”Your Graces” he answered, in his most mellifluous voice “I have been tricked into confessing crimes that I did not commit.” Mayhaps the dragon girl would take pity on him. Unlikely, but worth the try. “My Queen, you are not yet influenced by these power-hungry men who are set to destroy me. Won’t you listen to me and take pity on my ordeal?”

”Lord Baelish, all I have heard leads me to believe you have wronged House Stark. This is my family now, my house as well. I will not stand in the way of justice. This is my lord husband’s case to judge.” There was a murmur of agreement. So, she was playing the demure wife? He looked all around him, there were no sympathetic faces, no one who would intercede for him.

”I demand my immediate release! I am Lord Protector of the Vale, you cannot simply kill me!” He said desperately.

”I think you misunderstood me. I have no doubts the accusations are true! I am merely giving you a chance to speak your mind and clear your conscience - if you have one - by confessing to more crimes which I am quite sure you have committed, and show repentance.”

”Is this a joke? I have been kept inside a dungeon for only the Seven know how long, and for what? So that I have the privilege of being executed in front of you? To be made a spectacle of?” Sometimes the best strategy was offence, sow the seeds of discordance as high as possible.

”No, Lord Baelish. You were kept inside a dungeon so that we could all hear your crimes from your own mouth. In normal circumstances I would give you the choice of taking the Black, but in your case I am quite ready to pass the sentence and swing the sword myself.” The crowd shouted their agreement. Petyr knew it was too late. He was to die. “You have shown no repentance for your actions and you are still trying to manipulate us to your benefit. Is there anyone here who can attest to the crimes this man has committed?”

”I can, brother.” _The whore!_ “I am witness to the killing of Lady Arryn. He threw her out of the Moon door and threatened me so that I would lie on his behalf. He has also confessed to the other crimes in my presence. He used me for obtaining benefits from the southern crown by selling me to the Boltons. He tried to poison opinions against you, and he tried to convince me to betray you and claim the Northern Crown for myself.”

”Thank you, sister. Does anyone have anything else to offer in this case?”

”I do, Your Grace.” _Fucking Yohn Royce._ “I have received news from Runestone, where Lord Robert Arryn has remained under my protection. Here is a letter from the maester that served at the Eyre, confirming that Lord Baelish pressured him to use a treatment on the young lord that, in the long run, would result in his death. Although the maester refused to continue with the administration of the drug, he recently discovered that a servant had been paid by Lord Baelish to mix it with Lord Robert’s milk. Unfortunately, that led to irreparable damage to the boy’s health and it is unlikely that he will live much longer.”

”Lies, all lies. It is you who has been trying to poison Sweetrobin! You want to rule over the Vale.” How could the girl have been so stupid as to confess? He had promised her enough gold and threatened her enough for her to keep her mouth shut. Except that now he could not make good on his promises or his threats.

”Don’t you dare! Or by the Gods, I shall kill you myself in this very room.”

”Enough, Lord Royce! He will pay for what he’s done to the Arryns and the men of the Vale. Anything else?”

”I want to ask something. Arya, can you hand me the dagger?” Bran Stark’s eyes were set on his, as if he knew. “How did you come by this dagger, Lord Baelish?” He knew.

”Are you not going to answer?” asked Arya Stark with a smirk. “Didn’t this blade belong to you?”

”Aye, it did. I gifted it to Lord Bran.”

”And how did you find yourself in possession of this weapon?” she continued.

”I found it! Many years ago.” It wasn’t a lie.

”Someone tried to kill me with this blade, after I fell. My direwolf killed the assassin but my mother’s hands were cut when she tried to protect me. She took the blade to King’s Landing and you talked to her, didn’t you Lord Baelish? You told her that you had lost this blade on a wager to Tyrion Lannister. That led my mother to arrest him, which led my father to be ambushed… it set a war in motion. In fact, you used this blade to aid in our Lord Father’s arrest. But this blade never belonged to Lord Tyrion, did it? You lost it to Robert Baratheon and it ended up in Joffrey’s hands before he gave it to a killer hired to end my life. Do you deny this?”

”I had nothing to do with the attempt on your life, my Lord.”

”It still doesn’t explain how this came to you.” continued Bran.

”Excuse me, my Lord. Can I see the blade?” Barristan Selmy, so the old man was still alive. “I have no idea how Lord Baelish acquired this, but it once belonged to House Targaryen. It is Valyrian steel and the hilt is made of dragon bone. Prince Rhaegar used to call it Dragon’s Tooth, I do not know if that was its true name or not. He sometimes carried it. How did you get it?”

”Why does it matter? I am a dead man, am I not?”

”There are many ways to die, Lord Baelish.” threatened the Bastard. “Answer!”

”Answer how you began your vendetta against House Stark. Tell us how smart you were, have that small pleasure before your life is over” teased the cripple.

The hell with it, he was dead, at least for once he would brag at how easy it was to play these fools! And for so long. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. And how could he forget? That day had changed everything.

”Your namesake, Brandon, was a bully. Did you know? I loved your mother, she was everything to me. He didn’t love her, was more interested in running around other women and getting into fights. Ah, the honourable Starks, not so honourable if you look closely, are you? He didn’t deserve Cat.” he spat the words. “I challenged him into a fight, I wanted her! He nearly killed me and afterwards, she didn’t even take care of me. Lysa nursed me, but she wasn’t Cat, she did not even come close to her sister.”

”Get on with it. What does this have to do with the dagger?” the Imp asked. He just ignored him and carried on. He wanted to tell his story properly, no hurries.

”Lord Tully gave me two weeks to get out of Riverrun afterwards, told me I should go back to the Fingers before Bran arrived for the wedding. How easy it was to set me aside, after so many years of being part of the family! The old man only cared for ways to increase his power, nothing else.” _Ah, but I wasn’t done with trying._ “Lysa however, wouldn’t be parted from me so soon! She managed to sneak me into one of the gatehouses. The guard there, an old man who had seen us all grow up, took pity on me.” _And enjoyed the payment Lysa gave him, most of all._ “Lord Hoster and Cat were too busy with the wedding to notice I had come back. As the day of the wedding drew near all I did was watch out for riders, trying to set eyes on Brandon Stark. Trying to find a way to stop the wedding from taking place.” _I would have killed him with my bare hands if I had to. In the end I didn’t need to._ “One day, a rider approached the gate. The guard had left for a moment” _to take a piss, the old drunkard_ “and since the rider was unknown to me I went to see what he wanted. He asked to speak to Brandon Stark, had an urgent message for him. I told him he hadn’t arrived yet but I would give him the message as soon as he did. The messenger insisted he had to give the message to _Lord Brandon_ but luck had it that Lysa arrived at that moment. I called her Lady Catelyn and Lysa played along.” _She did have her uses._ “She assured the man that she would place the message directly in Brandon’s hands. Played offended that the man wouldn’t trust her! Threatened to have him arrested. In the end the man delivered the message in her hands and left.” He paused, for good effect. Now the audience hung on his every word.

”And? Continue!” asked the Bastard. Petyr took time to smile his most mocking grin.

”Lysa gave me the scroll and I sent her on her way asking that she would tell no one what had happened. The dagger was wrapped inside the message.”

”And the message?”

 _Ah, the message._ He would never forget the words.

”The message went like this.” Petyr made a mocking woman’s “ _Dearest Bran, I hope one day I will be forgiven for my actions. Ned and father must understand I would rather die than give myself to Robert. I could not stand idle while my life was decided for me so I took matters into my own hands. Know that I have not soiled the name of house Stark. I write these words as a woman wed, a princess of Westeros. Rhaegar reached an understanding with Princess Elia and was granted an annulment for their marriage. I have become his wife before the Old Gods and the New. For now, this must be kept as a secret from all but those closest to us, but when the time comes, I will be his Queen. When Father finds it in his heart to forgive me (as I know he will), have him take this dagger to Lord Whent, he will be able to take him to us. We will have need of his counsel and his support for the future we mean to build. Your loving sister, Lya._ ”

The silence in the Hall was such that one could hear a pin falling from the end of the room. The crowd was in shock. Petyr looked around, appreciating the effect, revelling in the power that was left to him. One last bit of pleasure.

”There is no recollection of any such letter, what did you do with it?” growled the Bastard. He could only smile and take his time to answer.

”I burned it, of course!” If it were now, he would have kept it but his younger self did not think so far ahead. “And hid the dagger.”

”The entire seven kingdoms think my brother abducted Lady Lyanna and raped her! All because you were jealous of Brandon Stark?” The dragon girl was showing her true colours. One could almost see the fire burning inside her queer purple eyes.

He started laughing. First it was only a chuckle, then hysteria took hold of him. Knowing that his end was so near. It would have all been for nothing, it was almost amusing.

One of the guards punched him in the stomach. That ended the laughter for good. “When the old guard came back, I told him the tale of how a man had come bearing most disturbing news! Lady Lyanna had been taken by the Prince! Raped and dragged screaming. _Someone_ had to warn the family, it was a tragedy! The wedding must be called off! And so it began, the man told everyone he could find and the story soon reached Lord Hoster’s ears. It spread like wildfire! Soon, there were people swearing they had seen the Prince on the road with knights of the Kingsguard and a fair Lady tied to a horse! Some swore they had heard a woman scream near Harrenhall, near Pinkmaiden, as far as The Twins! And, of course, Brandon, hot-headed, stupid Brandon, had to outdo himself! As soon as he heard of this he went south to threaten the Crown Prince to the King’s face.”

”You started everything!” The Queen had risen from her seat and was fuming. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You destroyed everything. I hold you responsible for the disgrace of my family and for the Rebellion. Your actions led, though indirectly, to the deaths of Brandon and Rickard Stark, the deaths of my brother and Lady Lyanna, the deaths of Princess Elia and the children!” Her voice was catching, she was losing control of herself. The crowd was also losing control, calling him by every name that could be imagined. Accusing him of the death of their brothers, fathers, husbands during the war. Petyr did not care, it would all be over now. He would die but he would take with him the certainty that no one had influenced the history of Westeros more than he had.

”I condemn you to death, Lord Petyr Baelish.” The crowd cheered their King’s decision. “Take him outside! Kyle, hand me Longclaw.” The guards dragged him to the courtyard. A block had been set in the centre. He was made to bend over it, his neck was exposed, and he was held down in position. The crowd stepped away, he looked to the side and could see the Queen and all the Starks assembled. Steps approached from the other side, he could recognize the heavy boots of the Bastard. _Maybe not._ It only pained him that he would die without knowing for certain. Though looking from that angle, his profile did look remarkably like his wife’s.

”Any last words?”

”Fuck off and the Others take you all.” He spat at his feet.

He heard a sword being unsheathed, a sharp sound sliced the air, and his world ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I wasn't satisfied at all with Littlefinger's demise in the tv series. There were so many threads that connected him to the bigger story that were just left hanging there... but enough with complaining. Let me know what you think of my alternative ending to his career of evilness. Next chapter is going to be big! Get those hankies ready!


	16. Daenerys V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Politics, love, science, and revelations in Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Long overdue chapter, I know, I know. Life got in the way. But I hope the wait was worth it.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks. It's truly amazing to know people are enjoying this little hobby of mine. 
> 
> I really hope I have added some truly original things in this chapter, I just hope you find a few of them as amusing as I and my super-duper beta, iia_ao3ac both do.

# If There Was a Man

### Daenerys V

The entire afternoon had passed in a strange rush. She had never seen Jon kill a living man and this one had been different from any other executions she had witnessed before. She thought this Petyr Baelish had never done anything to her only to have him shake her out of her illusion. That moment she had understood what her good brother had meant when he said they should listen to what he had to tell. She had almost lost control of her emotions for a moment, and then, that scary moment when she realized… there were more secrets to be uncovered, things she both feared and desired to know. _”The dragons know it, don’t you mother?”_ Every time she dreamt of the man with silver hair and grey eyes he would tell her that, only for her to wake up immediately. Sometimes the question was posed smiling, sometimes begging, other times teasingly. 

She had quickly regained her composure after that. She knew how to hide her feelings and her anguishes well. The man responsible for making her lose her temper was turning to ash in the courtyard and he couldn’t hurt them anymore. The Lords and Ladies had flooded around her and Jon afterwards. Some asked her questions while others petitioned for help, but most were obviously only trying to see her up close. She knew that her suitability as a Queen was being gauged by most of them. It was a game she could play, one she was used to. She put her queenly, wifely mask and played along, prepared to continue with her game but her husband saved her from it. 

”I must visit the Godswood.”, he said. “Would you care to join me, my Queen?”

”Of course” she said dutifully. They left the courtyard with Ghost close at their heels. “I thought we would have to endure this until the feast. How did they accept you leaving so easily?”

”It is to be expected that I would come to the Godswood afterwards.” he said with a sad voice as they approached an iron gate. ”This is the entry. Father used to come here every time he had to execute someone. He would stay a long time, cleaning and oiling Ice. Some say the Starks of old made blood sacrifices to the Old Gods, perhaps this is the same. After we took Winterfell I came here. I was all caked with blood and the Gods’ know what else. I cleaned myself in the pool opposite the heart tree and somehow I felt at peace. Perhaps the Old Gods still expect blood in order to keep their watch over us.”

Dany looked at the forest around her. She had never believed in any Gods, although she had found herself trying to pray to both Old and New on her way North. She had begged for a child… perhaps they had heard her, or perhaps they were cruel enough to allow her some hope before ripping it from her.

In contrast to the outside, the ground there was not frozen. It was covered in leaves from the many trees that populated the grove. Ahead of them was a huge weirwood tree with gnarled roots spread around and a dark pool in front of it which seemed to reflect the tree. Dany had seen weirwood trees before but this one was impressive. The face carved on its pale bark seemed to look directly at them, and the sap that escaped from the eye sockets appeared to her as if made of blood. _Like Ghost._ She looked at Jon beside her, he had that lovely sad smile on his face.

”Is this where we shall be wed again?” she asked him.

”If you’ll have me again” he jested. 

”I’ll wed you and have you as many times as you wish” she said, sitting beside him on one of the roots.

Jon unwrapped his sword from the rag he had used instead of the sheath. It was red with Baelish’s blood. He dunk the cloth in the water and ran it along the blade. Fat red drops fell into the dark pool as Jon washed the blade clean with a lover’s touch. She turned her attention to the face in the heart tree. It seemed to be calling her.

”How does one pray to the Old Gods, Jon?” she queried. 

He looked at her for a moment, as if the thought had never crossed his mind. “There are no prayers to learn, if that’s what you’re asking. The Gods watch through the eyes of the heart trees and they see through you, deep in your heart. I suppose the only way to explain it is that you talk to them inside your head. You can even imagine they answer, though I’m not sure I believe it anymore. But if you close your eyes, bring your hand to touch the bark and _talk_ to them inside your head, you can almost hear them answering back through the rustle of leaves or the wind passing by. Try it!”

Dany did as he bid, touched the surface of the tree, closed her eyes, and said a silent prayer. Jon was right, she could almost hear her name being called by the red leaves of the tree. She let herself stay like that, pouring the contents of her heart’s innermost desires at this tree, begging that her fears were unfounded, and she felt at ease, as if nothing could hurt them while they stayed there. All the sounds were now mixing; the leaves, the wind, her husband’s touch on the blade, the sounds of water, the distant call of her children, voices. 

”Dany, Dany, wake up.” sounded a distant voice she recognized as Jon’s. She woke up with a startle. Bran had joined them in the meanwhile.

”I must have drifted off. I suppose I’m more tired than I thought.” she said, embarrassed. “I was trying to pray to the Old Gods, but they weren’t very interested, obviously, since they allowed me to sleep.”

”Or perhaps they were enjoying so much they gave you some much needed rest!” added Jon.

”What do you pray for, Daenerys Stormborn?” Asked Bran solemnly.

_Should I answer him?_ If it was true what was said about him, then he would somehow find out soon. In any case, there was no reason for lying. “I pray for peace, for these wars to end soon, I pray for a short Winter, for Spring to return soon, and” she had to steady herself before adding the last, the most important part “I pray for a living, healthy child.” Jon took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, as if assuring her everything would be fine. “I suppose, as I’m not used to praying, I asked for a lot of things all at once.”

”Not at all!” Bran said. “You asked for only one thing.”

”What do you mean, Bran?” asked Jon.

”The fate of the war, the coming of Spring, and the life of your child are connected. Defeating the Others will bring about Spring, if they win this Winter will not end. If we lose then your child and all other children will die, or worse. If we win this war then your child will live and grow strong.” She felt Jon’s strong arm encircling her.

”How … how can you be sure?”

”You doubt my words. You still hear her voice when you lay still at night, she still haunts your thoughts, doesn’t she?” His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that scared her. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, isn’t that what she said?”

Dany felt her breath catch for a moment. How could he know what Mirri Maz Duur had told her that day?

”Who is she, what are you talking about?” Jon asked, but she silenced him with a wordless plead. _For another time._

”How is it possible, how do you know?” she continued questioning Bran.

”I know that and more, much more. I know your past and I can glimpse your future… or what might be your future. She had the power to take your child then, but none to take the lives of those who were yet to be. After the maester examines you tomorrow, have him call Sam. You should tell them both what happened, they will be able to shed some light on the matter, much better than I can. We have much to talk about, and it won’t be easy for any of us but will be necessary to win this war. Tomorrow, though. For now you have things to attend and so have I and one more day will change nothing. Jon, can you pull me closer to the tree? Thank you.”

Jon did as his brother bid him but had a haunted look on his face. Bran knew things no one else could glimpse, that was true. He certainly seemed to know what had happened in much more detail than anyone and she felt compelled to believe him. She found a new hope… no, certainty that her child would survive. As long as the living won, she would bear a living child. _We have to win. We shall win._

Dany approached Bran’s chair and looked him in the eye. “Thank you.” she said, and kissed his brow. He gave her a small smile and turned to face the heart tree, ignoring them both.

Jon took her hand and helped her up. He didn’t say anything but his eyes spoke volumes. He feared for them. She kissed him and smiled at his worried looks. “Don’t worry, my love. We will win this war because I have dreamt of our child, and my dreams always come true.”

The feast in their honour was an opportunity to speak to those assembled and try to gain the support of those who were yet undecided in regards to her. The knowledge that her brother Rhaegar had not abducted and raped Lady Lyanna, however, seemed to have quieted some of the Northerners. Many of the Lords seemed to think that the fact that Dany had married him and made him her King meant she had given up her power. They kept trying to exclude her from the more serious conversations with her husband but she was stubborn and so was he. Jon didn’t let himself be dragged into that game, smartly manoeuvring the conversation in a way that surprised her. They were together, for better and for worse. The most amusing moment of the evening was perhaps when the young Lady Lyanna Mormont had stood in their presence, glowering at her cousin.

”I don’t mean to disrespect you, Your Graces, but why is he here?” asked the bear cub.

”Lady Mormont, I consider your cousin has paid for his crime sufficiently and therefore allowed him to return North at the request of my Queen. Besides, he accompanied me beyond the Wall and saved my life.”

”Lady Mormont. My husband has spoken so highly of you I could not wait to make your acquaintance. Your cousin has also spoken highly of your mother and grandmother, of the fierceness of the Ladies of Bear Island.” Dany signalled for him to approach. “I hope you understand he is here as part of my Queen’s Guard, to protect me and my King as well, and to fight in this war. As to the crimes he committed in the past, he has helped with ending slavery in many parts of Essos” not completely true, but Dany thought it better to ease the story. “I consider, and my King agrees with me that he has paid for his mistakes. Ah, Ser Jorah, have you spoken to your kin yet?”

”Your Grace, I didn’t have the occasion until now. How are you cousin?”

”I’d be better if you hadn’t soiled the name of our family yet again by returning. I have no choice but to accept you around, but don’t expect me to like it.”

”It is your right, and I don’t blame you. I did wrong and I paid for it. Do you see this on my face?” questioned the old bear pointing at the brand on his face. “I was a slave myself, for a while. Because I was disobedient they branded me. I would rather starve to death than sell anyone, or allow anyone to be a slave, ever again. All I wish now is to serve my King and Queen and regain the honour I once lost.”

”I hope you’re not thinking of giving him back Bear Island?” The lady’s attitude was still one of defiance, but her voice was now milder.

”Of course not, my Lady. A brother of the Queen’s Guard does not hold lands and even if he could, we would not take your rightful place” told her Dany.

”Nor would I want to. You are the lady of Bear Island and the head of the Mormonts as far as I’m concerned” declared Ser Jorah.

”He would not even accept yielding Longclaw again, even though I offered him the blade” added Jon. That seemed to placate Lady Lyanna’s fury. She nodded gravely.

”Very well. My King, my Queen.” She dropped a curtsey and left.

”She’s feisty, Ser Jorah!” Dany commented with a smile.

”Aye, she is. The ladies of my house are as fierce as they are true, though.”

”Her support has been unfailing so far. She can put men old enough to be her grandfather in line with only a few words. I’m sure you two will get along just fine” said Jon with a smile.

”I’m sure we will.”

After the party, her handmaid came to help her undress. The girl was competent enough, but it would take a while to get used to her presence so she sent her away and finished preparing for bed alone. She noticed Jon looking at her from the corner of the looking glass. _He’s onto something._ She finished arranging her hair into a simple braid and raised to go to bed but Jon quickly stood in her way with the predatory, wolfish look he wore sometimes. In two steps he was upon her, having shed his shirt in the process. 

”Someone’s in a hurry!” exclaimed Dany in between kisses.

”Gods know how long we have until we have to leave and fight. I don’t want to waste any time.”

His kisses barely left her space to breath. She could feel his hardness on her belly as his hands roamed over her entire back. She quickly worked the laces of his smallclothes to free him, enjoying his weight on her hand as she stroked him. He grabbed her backside and lifted her to straddle his waist. Dany thought he would take her to bed but she was wrong. He pushed her against the wall, kissing and touching her with such intensity it seemed he hadn’t had her in a year, not just a couple of days. He pulled her shift over her head and made a mess of her hair but she didn’t mind. Dany enjoyed his more heated attentions. Even when he was rough, Jon was never an unkind lover. She felt his manhood hard against her folds, but she could hardly move against it, so strong was Jon’s grip on her and so little the space between their bodies. He took her like that, against the warm wall of their bedroom, in a frenzy of desire and despair. When pleasure overtook her she marked his back with her nails and his shoulder with her mouth and teeth, as he emptied himself inside her with a loud cry. Their first night in Winterfell they didn’t sleep much, whether from worry at the upcoming war or from the heat of their passion. 

In the morning, she got ready to meet the maester while Jon attended to other business. Missandei had asked if she would like her company but she preferred to go alone. Dany has never been in such a situation, had previously refused to be examined for fear her barrenness might be discovered, but now it was different. Now she knew she carried a child and wanted by all means to make sure it survived. 

She was escorted to the maester’s tower by Ser Jorah and was received by Wolkan himself at the entry. He had been awaiting her. She knew him to be a kind man, who had helped in any way he could her good sister when she had been wed to Bolton at great personal risk. He put her at ease, explaining what he was going to do, sorry it would be uncomfortable but quick. He was true to his word.

”Everything seems to be quite fine, there are no reasons to worry!” he exclaimed giving her a wide smile.

”You are sure? Everything is as it should?”

”As far as I can tell, at least! I will prepare a tonic for your indisposition. That will help you eat, you do look a bit pale and I would like to have you gain some weight but it’s nothing to worry about. The babe should be born in around seven moons time.” The man excused himself and left the room while she put the rest of her clothes on. She found it amusing he had insisted she kept her shift on to protect her modesty, as if he hadn’t glimpsed enough during his examination. 

”Maester, there is a reason why I am so fearful for this pregnancy” said Dany as she re-entered the man’s study. 

”Ah, yes. His Grace mentioned that there have been some difficulties in the past, but he didn’t give me any details. He also told me I should have young Tarly here for that discussion.”

It turned out Samwell Tarly was already waiting outside. 

”Good morning Maester, Your Grace. I was just with Jon, catching up on things, talking. He told me I should come here… something about babes.” said the man blushing profusely. Jon had spoken at length about him. Behind an unassuming and almost comical appearance was a kin intellect and, in his own words, a queer kind of courage, whatever that meant. 

Dany told them her story, calling upon Ser Jorah when it came to the birth of Rhaego and what followed. She left no detail out, no matter how embarrassing for her.

”So you see, I had every reason to believe myself barren and although I am with child, I fear I may not carry it to term, that it may not live.” Talking to Bran the previous day had given her fresh hope, but this was a fear that gnawed on her heart almost constantly.

”If you may excuse me, Your Grace, I think this witch as you call her was merely making an educated guess. I have seen enough things lately to make me doubt my own sanity and I know that there are more things than can explained by mere logic, but I find that this is the only explanation!” said Maester Wolkan. ”You told us yourself, the widows of the khals are taken to this holy city. Your husband was as good as dead. What I mean is, another warrior would kill him to get his khalasar. The new khal would either kill you or deliver you to the…”

”Dosh Khaleen” offered Dany, their train of thought forming clearly in her mind.

”In any case, it was highly unlikely you would ever bear another child. She meant to hurt you, to torture you.” Said the man kindly. 

”But I did not go to the Dosh Khaleen and still I did not get with child until now.” Argued Dany.

”I think there might be another explanation. You told us this woman had trained with an archmaester of the Citadel. You don’t happen to remember his name, do you?” asked Sam.

”Not quite. It was something beginning with an M.” No matter how much she probed her memories, she could not recall who it was.

”Could it be Marwyn?” asked the plump young man.

”It was Marwyn. How did you know?” She recognized the name the moment he pronounced it. Maester Wolkan had a worried look on his face.

”Just a guess. I met him, briefly, when I first arrived at the Citadel. He has travelled all over Essos and is known to keep unusual company.” She noticed Wolkan raising an eyebrow at that.

”Anyways, regardless of his eccentricities he is… or was, I have no idea, a very knowledgeable man. He left the Citadel for Essos to try and find you, to counsel you. I never heard word of him again.”

”Well, he never reached me, and what does that matter to my story?”

”Ah, yes. He said that the Jogos Nhai put pebbles inside female zorse’s wombs during long travels to prevent them from conceiving and that other Essosi people have similar practices with other animals. He wanted to try that on women and even asked Maester Robett about it but Robett told him he would only do it if he gave him evidence that it worked and was safe.”

”You mean, you think Mirri Maz Duur might have done it to me?” The idea dawned on her and made her fume with hatred of the woman.

”She had the occasion for it! She was the one to attend the birth of your child.”

”But how did I conceive now?”

“About that, you mentioned you bled heavily in the Dothraki Sea and you also mentioned having eaten berries from a bush. Well, there are some kinds of berries that cause contractions of the womb. That might have caused you to expel the pebbles or whatever she put inside you.” Sam seemed proud of himself for a moment. To her it made a world of sense, she hadn’t lain with another man except with Jon since that had happened to her.

”This is mere guess work, Tarly!” said an annoyed Maester Wolkan. “Besides, Maester Robett is right, we have no proof that these stories are true and even if they were, no indication that they might work on women!”

”Why shouldn’t it work?” asked Sam.

”First of all because women do not walk on four legs, the pebbles would fall wouldn’t they?”

”Not necessarily, Maester.” For all his youth and lack of experience, Sam seemed to have a better grasp of women’s bodies than the good maester.

”Don’t be silly. I admit the idea is intriguing, but it would need to be something that would not fall and would not cause infection. While I don’t agree with your explanation, I admit it is ingenious.”

”Then what explanation do you have that I haven’t fallen with child before?” Dany was at least curious, after all it was her body that held the mystery they were discussing.

”Your Grace, I have a theory. Will you forgive me if I ask you some very personal and seemingly odd questions?”

”Maester, after all we have been discussing I highly doubt anything would be more personal. ”

”It is about the man parts of your previous… partners? In particular their testicles.”

_I was wrong._ Dany felt her face turning read in spite of herself. She must have appeared clueless because the man felt the need to explain further.

”Balls, Your Grace, stones.”

”I know what you meant, Maester” she answered with ill-concealed annoyance. “What do you wish to know?” _Better get this over with._

”The size, Your Grace.”

”The size?” _Oh, the size!_

”What was the size of your paramour’s testicles, if you’ll forgive my question? Compared to your husbands’.”

”They were… smaller, Maester.” _Gods damn Daario!_ He told her it was a sign of his masculinity that he didn’t have stones as big as other men, though she found that odd. She had truly been a silly girl back then.

”How small?” He seemed eager to know so Dany looked about her for something to demonstrate. She needed to know. Her eyes finally set on a collection of eggs in a display. She rose from her seat and approached it.

”That small” she said pointing at one of the smaller specimens. “I did not know it made a difference.” She hated displaying her ignorance in such matters, but how was she supposed to know what the size of a man’s stones should be to sire children?

”It does, below a certain threshold I’m afraid. But it is not general knowledge, unfortunately. Only those who have dedicated themselves to the study of procreation, as I have under the tutelage of Maester Robett, know such things.” The man seemed proud of that achievement, and Sam himself nodded when hearing of it. “If I may be so bold, and please I do not wish to offend you with this question, but did they feel… different, in texture?”

Dany closed her eyes to gather her wits before answering in clipped tones “Yes, they did.”

”That explains it, then. We will not know the reasons, but it is highly unlikely he was able to get a woman with child. You can rest assured, Your Grace. The witch did not have any power, she did not curse you or prophesied that you would not mother children. She was merely a cruel woman who wished to hurt you even more than you already were.” Dany’s heart was jumping with joy, though she could hardly show it. There was nothing wrong with her. There was never anything wrong with her! Sam broke her thoughts.

”Maester Marwyn said something interesting about prophecies, you know?” said Sam, before turning red and swallowing. 

”What was it Tarly?”

”Well, I can’t… I really can’t say it in front of the Queen, Maester.”

”After all we’ve been speaking of, what can possibly be worse? Go ahead and say it.” 

”He said prophecy is like a woman who takes a man’s member in her mouth and then bites it off, he said prophecy will bite your prick off every time” he answered shyly.

Try as she did, she could not avoid laughing, and neither could the two men avoid joining her.

”I thank you truly, from all my heart. I will not forget you for having quieted my fears and put an end to a burden I have been carrying for years.” 

Sam accompanied her back to her quarters, which provided a fine opportunity for conversation. He did not hold rancour over what happened to his father and brother, understanding the situation in which their execution had occurred. He did not hold much love for his father anyhow. 

”I assume Jon made you a proposal this morning, did he not?” They had agreed it would be for the best if they released Sam from his vows and made him Lord of Horn Hill and Lady Tarly had herself petitioned for it.

”Yes, Your Grace, he did. I need some time to think on the subject, though.”

”Naturally.”

They reached the door to the Lord’s chamber. There was a guard stationed outside. “Is the King within?” Dany asked him?

”Yes, Your Grace. He is speaking with Lord Brandon.”

”Are you sure?” asked Sam, suddenly worried. The man only nodded.

Sam opened the door to the solar quickly and Dany could only follow him inside. She was about to ask him what worried him so when she noticed the exalted voice of her husband coming from the bedroom door that had suddenly opened. Sam stopped livid in his tracks.

”I won’t hear anything more you have to say, you are leaving this moment. Leave me alone!” Jon’s voice was pained and angry, in a way she had never heard before. He was moving his brother’s chair towards the bedroom door but stopped suddenly when he saw her entering the room.

”You told him, didn’t you?” Sam was asking Bran angrily, entering the room as well. “I asked you not to tell him without me!”

”You weren’t here, I had to tell him” answered Bran emotionless.

”I was needed elsewhere, you shouldn’t have done it! You should have waited! Jon, listen to me Jon, I’m sorry...”

”Leave me alone, Sam. Take him and leave me alone. Don’t say another word, I don’t want to hear anything else or I swear I will…” he never finished his sentence, instead turning away from the door and slumping to the floor against the wall, taking his head between his hands.

Sam took Bran’s chair and left, closing the door behind him. She did not know what had happened, what Bran had told him, but she had never seen him in such a state. _What should I do?_ Suddenly she realized Jon wanted to be alone, truly alone. She made to leave but felt a hand grabbing her wrist vigorously.

”Not you, please. Don’t leave me alone Dany, I’m afraid I might do something mad.”

”No, I won’t leave you, ever.” Dany sunk to the floor beside him, not knowing what else to do. Jon let his head fall onto her lap. She caressed his face and stroked his hair, not knowing what else to do to ease whatever agony was afflicting him. “It’s alright, whatever it was it’s quite alright my love.”

She felt her hands dampen and heard a low, muted sob. Her stoic husband was crying and she knew, at that moment, that nothing would ever be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?


	17. Jon IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries to cope with the truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for the delay. I know it's been almost three months since my last update (oh, the horror!) but as usual life got in the way. It's just that this time a lot of life got in the way (family, work, etc, etc). So, without much delay, he's the long promised new chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

# If There Was a Man

### Jon IV

Jon could not tell how long he stayed like that, he had lost all sense of time. He could not remember when it was the last time he had cried. He did it more out of anger than from sadness. _I wish I were nothing more than a bastard._ He had longed his entire life for the truth, but in the end he wished he did not know. It would be easier to keep the illusion he had been under his entire life. Words and sentences came back to him, his brother… _not my brother, not any more_... his cousin had told him came back in a confusion of sound and fury. _”You are not my brother… Rhaegar sired you on Lyanna… trueborn…difficult birth… fever… blood and roses… promise… There’s more you need to know.”_ But Jon did not want to hear any more. Something had snapped him out of the transe Bran’s words had caused and he had sent him away, angry as if Bran himself had betrayed him. _It’s not his fault, he was only telling me the truth._

Jon could feel Dany’s hand kindly resting on his head. _We are kin._ It didn’t matter, such marriages were not unheard of in Westeros, though the Freefolk seemed to have a different opinion on such matters. Perhaps they were right… _no_. Confused as he was at that moment, of one thing he was sure. _I love her._ Somehow fate had brought them together. She was the only thing he had ever taken for himself, not out of duty or because it was expected of him, but out of pure selfishness. Because he wanted her. He lifted himself and looked at her. There was a kindness and sweetness to the dragon queen of which few were aware. _She will make a good mother._

”What did Maester Wolkan say?” He asked gingerly. 

”Everything’s fine. Should be born in about seven moonturns” she said smiling. Relief and fear washed over him. Winter was the worst time to have a child, let alone during a war.

”That’s good.” He forced himself to say. No matter what he would have to do, he would make sure his child would be safe and would not have to go through the same struggles he had faced. Their child would be loved, would know where he or she came from, and not have to pay for whatever crimes or bad decisions its parents might have made. _I will make sure of that, even if it’s the last thing I will do with my life._

”What happened, Jon?” She asked him worried.

_I have to tell her, she deserves to know._ But how? He rubbed his face, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. Outside the snow had started to fall again, the weather as dark as his mood. She caressed his face, making him turn towards her. She looked expectantly at him.

”Lyanna bore him a child.” was all he could manage to say before his throat seemingly closed.

Had her hand not been resting on his cheek he would have almost missed her reaction. Finally she swallowed and breathed deeply before speaking again.

”Are you that child?” A simple question that felt as devastating as none he had ever been asked. Her fingers played with the curls that stubbornly escaped the leather band and cleaned the salt from his dried tears. She feigned indifference but her eyes shined as if she was holding back tears and her hands trembled slightly.

He could not speak, so he nodded briefly. For a moment he was afraid she might react badly, but her thumb kept caressing his cheek as before. Her face showed no surprise, only resignation. As if she was expecting it.

”The dragons knew it!” She added in barely more than a whisper. “They recognised you the moment they saw you.”

Perhaps they did. Her hands left his face and he immediately shuddered at the loss. In truth his entire life he had been starved for affection. But her hands had not left him, not truly. They clutched his burnt hand, which he had been obsessively flexing, unaware until that moment.

”I imagine this must be hard for you, but at least now you know. You’re not sad because of us, are you?”

”Of course not!” he managed to say.

”Then tell me what’s eating at you. You are going to burst if you don’t talk about what bothers you. Is it because you are not Lord Stark’s son?” 

”Lord Stark? Seven Hells with Lord Stark!” he snapped, though he immediately regretted it. All the sorrow and anger he had in him had poured from him like a river bed swollen by melting snows. “He never told me a word, raised me as a bastard, allowed everyone to speak around me, allowed his lady wife to hate me. I thought I was unwanted this whole time. I spent my life feeling guilty for being a stain in the reputation of the honourable Eddard Stark, trying to atone for sins which, bastard or not, were never mine to begin with.”

”He raised you well, kept you hidden from whoever might have wanted to hurt you, gave you a loving family… for the most. It was far more than I had. You would have been killed as soon as anyone as much as questioned your birth. He kept you safe, for that alone I am forever in his debt!” exclaimed Daenerys.

”Kept me safe? Until he allowed me to rot at the Wall. But I was no longer his problem, was I? _Know no glory, hold no crown, father no children_ , that was the vow he let me to take.” It was as if the air was leaving him, he felt suffocating. “He never even had the kindness to tell me my mother was dead. I kept hoping someday she would show up to take me, that she would hold me and tell me I was wanted and loved. I couldn’t care less about crowns or thrones, but to know that I was wanted would have given me more comfort than all the luxuries in the world.”

”He was a good father to you, and he showed you what being a father meant. You told me yourself, that few trueborn children were better treated by their fathers as you were as a bastard. And you were not even a child of his own body. He could have delivered you to Robert to show his loyalty, but he didn’t. He might not have been the perfect man you idolized but he probably did the best he could under the circumstances.”

Jon couldn’t deny the sense in her words, but now it was impossible to know what went on in Lord Stark’s head. Had he ever wished he had done things differently? Had he wished he’d told Jon before the end? Jon felt empty and lost. 

”I don’t know what to do, I don’t know who I am any more.” he said at last, despair taking over him. _Perhaps I’ll go mad like some of my true kin._

Daenerys held his face again with her hands, forcing his eyes on hers. There was fire in those eyes. And love. And fierceness.

”Listen to me. You are the blood of the Dragon and the blood of the Wolf. You are the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, and Aemon the Dragonknight, and Brandon the Builder. Of Kings of Winter and Dragon Lords. Of the First Men and of old Valyria. _”I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight!”_ How many times had Jon called out when he was playing with Robb? How close had he been to the truth? He wished Robb was still alive, he wished for so many things that could never be. “But none of that matters, because you are _you_ , not a name or a lineage. You!” She kissed him, softly, just a peck on his brow and then another on the corner of his lips. It was enough to anchor him to solid ground somehow. 

There came a knock on the door, Sansa spoke from the other side. It was not time to tell her, not yet. He needed to gather his wits about him first.

”You may come in” Dany answered once he had safely retired to the window, looking out at the snow falling.

”Is there something amiss? Bran forbade everyone from coming to bother you but you were awaited in the Great Hall for the midday meal. The Lords are asking questions.” 

”I can’t face the sight of them right now” he answered in clipped tones.

”Can’t you make some excuse?” asked Dany. “Blame it on me if needed, say I was indisposed and wished my husband with me.”

”I can try, I suppose. Jon, Bran only said he’d told you about your mother. Whatever it was, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

”No, it’s not bad. It’s just unexpected and... “ he had to breath deeply before continuing “I still have to find a way to accept it myself. I’ll tell you and Arya later.”

”You don’t need to tell us if you don’t want to. It doesn’t matter, not anymore.”

He managed a weak smile at that, at how much his sister had changed. “Oh, but it does. You have no idea how much it matters.”

She only nodded but he could see how curious she was. If it was Arya, she wouldn’t leave the room without him telling her what was the matter, but Sansa let him keep his secrets just like she kept hers. It was a different type of relationship, but it was comfortable and loving in a way it never was while they were children. “I’ll send a servant with some food.”

Jon thanked her and turned his face towards the window. Dany approached him, looking out into the wintery scenery. Drogon was flying in circles above Winterfell while in the distance they could see Rhaegal slumbering on the ruins of the First Keep. Jon pulled Dany close to him, while she wrapped her arms around him and settled under his chin. She looked up at him, seemingly taking in the details of his face, and the act bothered him somewhat.

”You can look as much as you want, you won’t find any of him in me.” His words came out harsher than he wished, but Dany didn’t seem to pay any notice. “All my life I heard that whoever my mother was, she had left nothing in me. It was the other way around, after all.”

”That was not what I was doing” answered Dany patiently “but since you mentioned it, I doubt he left nothing in you.” She brought her hand to his eyes and his lips. “But you should speak to Ser Barristan on that regard.”

”He knew!” The knight had fainted when they first met, he must have recognized him somehow. “He said he had seen a ghost when we met.” He had also refused to tell Jon anything about it, though he admitted he knew who his mother was.

”I can think of no better explanation. Talk to him, it might ease you if only a little.”

”I must also speak with Lord Reed.” The man had been surprised Lord Stark had never told Jon about his mother. Mayhaps he could shed some light on what had happened at the time.

”You should go to Rhaegal” said Dany apparently absentmindedly. “I used to joke about it but now I’m serious.” She kept looking straight into his eyes. He knew what she meant all too well, but he was still unsure whether it would work or not. Dany had told him many times that a riderless dragon is far more vulnerable but he had yet to try and bond with him, whatever that meant. Perhaps that had happened already without him knowing how. The green dragon allowed him glimpses into his mind, letting him inside but not warg him in the way it happened with Ghost. Jon had a feeling he was playing hide-and-seek with him, trying to tease him, to call him. There was only one way to find out, though, and he would have to gather all his courage to do it.

Jon barely ate during lunch, managing only a few bites to appease Dany. They did not speak of what had happened, but talked of the future. Jon had a feeling his wife was trying to keep his mind distracted even if just for a bit. Ghost had come back to the room after roaming around, probably looking for scraps or because he felt his master was in need of him.

He and Dany were supposed to hold court during the afternoon. For a moment he thought about cancelling or having Dany do it alone but that would not do. _Duty does not wait on the improvement of my moods._

He tried as best he could to hide his fettle but his mind kept wandering off and people were noticing he was even more fidgety than usual. The Northern Lords and the Knights of the Vale wanted reassurances from the Queen that the foreign troops were under control, which she gave, but some did not seem satisfied. _Only time will solve this… or not at all._ There was some commotion about the presence of the small Lannister contingent with Ser Jaime at the lead. Many viewed the situation with suspicion. _In times of war, one cannot afford to be picky. Every able, living body that’s willing to fight should be allowed to_ he told them, while guaranteeing they were being kept under eye and outside the walls. Some of the Essosi had taken ill with the cold, although the Maesters were of the opinion that it was not serious. They had to be careful though, such a confluence of people could result in sickness if they were not careful, and Jon had experienced men deployed to inspect the correct digging of latrines and the general hygiene of the camps. The granaries at least seemed well provided at the moment, so there should be enough to feed them through a long winter. Some of the provisions were being distributed through the main keeps to guarantee the survival of those gathered there. The glass plates purchased, at high price, from the Myrish had arrived so the glass houses could be repaired, albeit partially. That could mean the difference between life and death during a long winter. _There’ll be less trouble if people have full stomachs, and less sickness if there’s fresh food to be had._ For once he missed Castle Black, or at least the ice cells where fresh goods could be stored for long times, safe from spoiling by being frozen solid. Mixed forces were being sent to reinforce the northmost keeps and the Wall, sent along with weapons made of dragonglass and castle forged steel mixed with the mineral. They were not sure these would work against the dead but it was worth a try, as working dragonglass into blades was slow work and the result didn’t last long. Most of the obsidian however was being turned into arrowheads, as it was safer to shoot from a distance and it mattered less whether the shooter had a sure aim or not as long as one of them hit an Other. Jon ordered everyone with two arms be given a bow and a quiver of arrows to have near at all times. Dany had the best of the Dothraki archers teach their own techniques, as they were masters in shooting arrows while moving on horseback, a useful skill.

It was time for their evening meal when they finished. Jon was tired to the bone and all he could think of was to leave all those people and have a moment of peace and quiet, or at least something close to that. But their responsibilities included dining in the Great Hall. To Jon, it felt like he was part of a mummer’s show. Everyone looking at the dais, trying to get a glimpse of the bastard king and his dragon queen, looking at how they ate, what they drank, how they behaved. He couldn’t do as he had when he was little more than a boy and sat below the salt. Back then, nobody cared if he drank too much or if he left the hall to vent his frustrations in the training yard. That boy was long gone, dead to give way to the man. _”It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”_ Maester Aemon had told him once. If only he could have him back to advise him. _Uncle Aemon_ , he thought. He wondered if the old man ever guessed the truth. Probably not.

After they had eaten, it seemed everyone was out to try and pry what happened out of him and Dany. Arya, Sansa, Tyrion, Davos, all surrounding them at every possible opportunity. But that was not the time or the occasion to talk about it. Jon’s head hurt and there was nothing he wished for more than his pillow, but once he settled his body, his mind gave him no rest. A whirlpool of thoughts and memories surfaced though he was unable to focus on one thing. He felt sick with tiredness and somnolence but sleep refused to take him away. All he wished was to close his eyes and escape into Ghost so that he could wander free in the Wolfswood but the Gods paid no heed to his wishes. His mind was haunted by thoughts of his parents, the thousands who died because of their folly, the two siblings he never knew he had, butchered along with their mother, innocents all. He remembered the man he thought was his father, the memory now tainted by the betrayal he felt. He thought of the rest of his family, of the child that was to come, of dead in the cold, of himself, dead in the cold. He finally gave up and rose carefully not to rouse his wife. He needed to clean his head, wash his face with cold water, drink ale, or milk, or anything that would quiet his wandering mind. He slipped out of the bedroom into the solar and opened the window. It was a clear, crisp winter night. Perhaps the cold would soothe him, perhaps his head would finally stop pulsing with every beat his heart took. 

When he returned to bed it didn’t get better, only worse. It was as if the cold air had awakened even more memories. He had half a mind of calling for the maester to give him a sleeping draught but he remembered how sleepy he had been the few times he had been given such preparations and decided otherwise. He would have to keep his wits about him come the morning. Dany must have somehow heard or felt him move because she turned to him in bed.

”Are you awake?” she asked him.

”I can’t sleep” he confessed. “I feel like my head is so full that it’s going to blow open.”

She lit the candle on the bedside so she could look upon him.

”Gods, you look pale as linen!” She took her hand to his forehead, as if worried he might have caught a fever, but must have understood there was nothing physically wrong with him. She replaced the candle on the bedside and sat by his side. “Can I help? Tell me.”

”Make me forget” he begged Dany. She knew what he meant, they both knew, having asked one another the same in moments where their personal demons came to plague them, when memories became too hard to handle, when nightmares woke them from their slumber. 

”I will” she whispered, pulling her nightshirt over head. 

She kissed him softly as her hands rid him of his night clothes. He was relieved that his body responded to her touch as usual and the warm buzz of desire spread steadily through him. She straddled him and it didn’t take long until she guided him inside her, moving slowly at first until she caught a rhythm that pleased her. Already he could feel his mind clearing, probably from the blood being directed elsewhere in his body. Their coupling was not about lust, it was an attempt of finding some solace in one another, a measure of comfort with their bodies that would soothe their souls. 

Too soon he felt his control slip but Dany wouldn’t heed his warnings. Jon buried his face in her neck as she hugged him close leaving barely any space between them to move. He spent himself inside her as he grunted words of love and despair in her ear. He could not remember what happened next, he must have dozed off right away. That night he did not slip inside Ghost but instead dreamt of flying high in the air, a sword hot in his hand and the entire world far below him. Then he was on the ground and all around him the dead swarmed in fury. Left and right he cut them in half or set them ablaze, but they kept coming. In the distance voices screamed his name, called for help, asked him to return but he couldn’t. He had to kill the dead or else he’d become one himself. But that nightmare just turned into another, one that he knew well. He walked the steps down to the Crypts of Winterfell, voices calling from afar. It was so dark that he couldn’t see the way but down and down he went until the voices became louder. _”You don’t belong here”_ said the voices of the Kings of Winter on their stone thrones. _“Because I’m not a Stark?”_ Jon asked angrily. _”No, because the living do not belong in the halls of the dead_ said a kind, womanly voice. He had died once, though, and there had been no hall awaiting him. _And besides,”_ she continued _“you are a King of Spring, not Winter!”_ There was only one woman buried in the crypts. _”Mother!”_ he cried after her, but saw only a fleeting shadow where the voice had come from. _”I needed you so, why did you have to die?”_ He sounded like the angry boy he had once been. _”I died so you could live. I did not want to but I would do it again if I had to. Do not waste my sacrifice. Live!”_

He woke up all of the sudden but the oppressive feeling he had felt the previous day was gone. The sleep, however restless, had done him good. The night was starting to fade by then and the chamber was illuminated by a faint light. Dany slept peacefully next to him. He thought again about how he came to be. He was not a bastard but his birth had not been honorable, not as he understood it. The man who sired him had left his first wife, no matter that his first children had not been set aside or whatever arrangement they had, it was not right. _”Love is the bane of honour, the death of duty.”_ Aemon Targaryen’s wise words echoed in his mind. Yet, who was Jon to speak about honour or duty when it came to the dealings of the heart? He may have initially been forced to break his vows with Ygritte, but no one forced him to continue or do such things as he had done. He had laid with Val of his own free will, even though by then he had no wishes to wed her. He hadn’t resisted Dany that night on the boat or any other night after that, knowing that it might take a while until they were wed. He hadn’t avoided spilling inside her, even though he could get her with child. In fact, he had secretly wished so. Their child had likely been conceived before their wedding, not that anyone would ever find out, but it was a matter of luck that they had wed on the way North. _”What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms... or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.”_

”What did you say?” asked Dany, sleepily. He must have spoken aloud without being aware of it. 

”Nothing important” Jon said, kissing her cheek. 

”How are you feeling?”

”Better.” It was not a lie, but it would be almost impossible to feel worse than the previous day. “At least I slept.”

She tried to hide the smirk, probably remembering how she had helped him sleep. No matter, it had worked. Jon suddenly thought he should make it up for her. It had been fast and desperate, only a way to give his restless mind some relief. He must have passed out so fast that he couldn’t even remember her cleaning him or herself, or pulling on her shift again.

”It’s good you rested, there’s much to be done today.” 

Jon knew that all too well, the day would not be easy. He would have to talk to his sisters, he needed to talk to them. _Enough with the lies in this family, enough with the secrets._ Should he inform anyone else? He needed to speak with Ser Barristan and Lord Reed. Others could wait. Others… _A war awaits us and Bran had other things to tell me._

”I don’t want to talk about that now Dany.” Jon wanted to take her, properly this time, wanted more of the sweet forgetfulness that came with it. He kissed her sweetly, then deeply, reveling in the way her body seemed to be melting under his touch. Jon tugged her shift up and sneaked under the furs, down her body, to the place that made her breath catch.

”No, stop” she asked when he prepared to enter her with his fingers. “Don’t go in just yet” she answered breathlessly.

”As you wish” Jon acquiesced, continuing his work until she was thoroughly lost in her wails.

“What would my lady wife desire next?”

Dany waited a moment before speaking, surprising him when she turned her back to him and knelt. When she answered her voice was clear and bold.

”Take me hard, don’t hold back Jon…”

Now he knew why she hadn’t wanted his fingers inside her, preparing her. She wanted it rougher than usual. They both needed to take their minds off their current troubles, and there was nothing better than mindlessly fucking for that. He sat on his heels and pulled her onto his lap. She laced her fingers in his hair and pulled him for a kiss while he played with her breasts. Dany tried to take hold of his cock but he held her hands in his, not wanting any additional stimulus. He wanted to prolong it as much as he possibly could.

”You want it hard, you’ll get it hard” he promised. She moaned in anticipation, turning it into a whine as he bit her shoulder.

Jon grabbed her waist and sheathed himself quickly and completely inside her. She released a cry at the suddenness though that was what she had asked of him.

”Go on, fuck me hard!” she growled. It always unsettled him when she used lewd words. She knew it and did it on purpose. He began moving her body up and down his length, angling her in a way that it almost felt like he was piercing her walls. Jon knew what he was searching for, so he went hard and slow until she lost her self-control. He could thrust in earnest then, matching his movements with hers, knowing that she would be screaming and pulsing around him for a while if he was skilful enough.

Dany’s breath caught and she started wailing, her body clenching around him. She let her body fall forward, taking purchase of the wooden headboard to handle it. He just thrust deeper and faster inside her and she responded by arching her back and panting with pleasure. She was trying to drag him with her into oblivion but Jon pulled out just in time before he could lose himself.

”Why did you stop? I asked you not to hold back!” she complained.

”Because I’m not finished with you yet” he justified, turning her on her back brusquely.

”Come here, then.” Dany smiled wickedly as she pulled him back into her warm embrace. He caught one of her breasts with his mouth, sucking hungrily, which left her breathless again.

”Too much!” she cried after a particularly sharp bite. He kissed it better, earning a delighted moan from her lips, before switching his attention to the other side, all the while moving lazily inside her. 

”Harder, Jon! Faster!” she begged. Jon did what she asked without delay. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, perhaps trying to anchor themselves to reality, but soon it was too much for them. Whatever animalistic part of themselves lived inside them took over and they moved as if by instinct in a restless dance. He could only feel her hands on his arse, slapping him and griping him, her words in his ear, breathless, urging him to go faster and harder, pulling him into a whirlpool of fury and lust. It was more than Jon could take, more than Dany could take. They cried into each other’s neck and with ungraceful, erratic movements he emptied himself, body and soul, into her. 

_Words and wind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the chapter was worth the wait. I'm going to try and update sooner this time. Several scenes from the next few chapter have been written already so it should go more smoothly (famous last words...)  
> Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please let me know.


End file.
